Bizarre Holiday Series
by wackyjacqs
Summary: A collection of daily one-shots, drabbles and missing scenes (hopefully!) focusing on the bizarre and random holidays that are celebrated around the world throughout the year… SG-1, style.
1. Polar Bear Swim

**Author's Note: Set post-series and written for 'Polar Bear Swim Day' on 1 January. Basically, people strip down to their bathing suits before they dive into ice-cold water. Sometimes it is for charity, other times it's for fun, but there are those who do it every year. I am not one of those people.**

* * *

 **Polar Bear Swim**

"I don't know, Carter," Jack drawls as he takes a step closer to his wife and gently tugs on her parka coat. "I think you've still got too many layers on."

"And with good reason," she laughs. "It's thirty-four degrees, Jack."

"You've faced these kinds of temperatures before," he grins, his breath mingling in a cloud of fog with Sam's.

"Either by accident or when trying to escape from the Goa'uld. It wasn't like I willingly chose to go into ice cold water."

"Oh, pshaw," he replies, waving a hand at her moments before he removes his coat and throws it onto one of the nearby deck chairs. "It's a tradition, Carter."

"Not one of mine, it's not."

"Spoilsport."

He grins as Sam tries – and fails – to be annoyed by his attempts to coax her into the lake with him. He sits on the chair before removing his boots and socks, and getting back to his feet, he turns and removes his sweater. An appreciative whistle can be heard from his right and he turns his head in time to see his wife's gaze tracing over the muscles of his back. Focusing back on the task at hand, he slips out of his jeans and throws them on top of the rest of his clothes so that he's now standing, in the middle of the Minnesotan winter, in just his boxers. He slowly walks towards Sam, a smirk on his face as her eyes never leave his body.

"This is your last chance."

"I'm good," she states with a smile. "I'm just going to stay here – and admire the view."

With that, she playfully pushes his chest and watches as Jack strolls to the end of the dock. He half turns and throws a sloppy salute, moments before he dives into the water. He emerges after a few seconds and begins to swim towards the center of the lake. When he stops and turns, he sees Sam standing at the water's edge, arms folded across her chest and an amused look on her face.

"How's the water?"

"Still warmer than the time we crashed in the ocean," he calls back. Not much warmer, he muses, but he refuses to let Sam know that. Although, he figures she can see right through his lies if the expression on her face is anything to go by. He takes a deep breath and makes his way back towards the cabin, smoothly pushing himself out of the water and back onto dry land. A towel is quickly draped around his shoulders, followed by a kiss on his cheek as Sam runs her hands down his arms.

"You'll catch pneumonia."

"Yet to happen, Carter."

"Alright... if that's the risk you want to take?"

He catches the question in her statement and raises a brow. "What's on your mind?"

"Well," she says, taking a step closer. "I can think of a couple of ways that would warm you up pretty quickly. Just to be safe."

"Oh, yeah?"

"Oh, yeah," she repeats breathily as she lets her gaze travel the length of his body once more, before she grabs his hand and pulls him towards the cabin.

* * *

 **Happy New Year, everyone! So, just before Christmas, I made a new year's resolution with a friend that I would try, for 2019, to write something every day (even if it's just 100 words at a time). He's been encouraging me to finish my own original story, a goal I fully want to achieve as well, but in order to do this, I'll need another writing project on the side for when I need a break… so, here's looking at you, fanfiction.**

 **I figure if I'm going to give this a go, I might as well go all in, therefore the plan is to write a one-shot each day that will be able to stand alone, but they can also be part of a wider overall series. The inspiration for this series comes from the various bizarre and random holidays that are celebrated around the world throughout the year. Seriously, every day is _literally_ a holiday.**

 **I will do my best to address one of these 'holidays' daily, but I will be on the road a lot with my job this year, so we'll see how it goes. Lastly, I hope you enjoy – as I have no idea what my muse will come up with!**


	2. Science, Fiction & Big Honkin Space Guns

**Author's Note: Thank you for all the reviews - a lot of them were by guest reviewers, so I can't respond personally, but thank you for your kind words! I'm glad the first holiday was enjoyable to read! Today's holiday is, quite fittingly, 'Science Fiction Day' – and I've written and re-written this at least a half dozen times… I'm sorry!**

* * *

Sam grabbed three beers from the fridge, set them on the worktop alongside a can of soda, and grinned as she heard Daniel direct numerous questions at Teal'c. As it turned out, the colonel wasn't the only member of SG-1 who had missed out on a certain experience – hence the reason for this particular team night.

"I can see your smirk from here, Carter. Stop it."

Sam turned to face her commanding officer, but didn't try to hide her amusement. And when he folded his arms across his chest and scowled, she was reminded of how her little nephew behaved when he doesn't always get his way. She clamped down the thought, just as Teal'c's voice drifted in from the den.

"I think it would be most beneficial if you learned to exercise patience this evening, Daniel Jackson. All will soon be revealed."

"Oh, for crying out loud," Jack mumbled.

Sam chuckled, then turned to pick up the drinks.

"Y'know, Carter," Jack said, before he cleared his throat. "Is this really such a good idea?"

"It was your idea, sir."

"Yeah." He sighed heavily. "It seemed like a good one at the time."

"How bad could it be?"

He raised an eyebrow in a silent challenge to continue that thought, when she added, "It'll be fine."

"Why do we even need to do this, anyway? Can't you just – I don't know... give me the Cliff Notes version?"

Sam couldn't help it. She laughed at his suggestion but shook her head as she handed him a beer.

"Thanks, Carter," he acknowledged. "But, really, how about them notes?"

"No notes, sir. You've got to do this yourself."

"Technically, as I'm the one who gives the orders around here, I don't think I have to do anything."

Sam smiled. "Not this time, sir. Everyone has to do this at least once."

"When did you do it?"

"The first time? 1983."

"That made you –"

"Fifteen, sir."

Jack ran a hand over his face, as he was reminded of their stark age gap. He sighed again.

"Did you like it?"

"I never said I liked it."

"Way to sell the experience, Carter," he grumbled.

"Sorry." She took a sip of her beer. "Permission to speak freely, sir?"

He regarded her for a moment, then nodded. "Sure."

"You've faced entire armies of Jaffa before and complained less. What's the problem?"

"It's _science fiction_ , Carter," he retorted, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.

"It's _Star Wars_. And we're only watching the first movie in the trilogy this evening. We're breaking you – and Daniel – in gently."

"Gee, thanks."

Sam bit back a sigh. "The premise is interesting, sir, and there's spaceships and –"

"Big honkin' space guns?"

"I was going to say Carrie Fisher," Sam added with a smirk.

"Carrie Fisher, eh?" He nodded approvingly. "I liked her in The Blues Brothers."

"I wouldn't know, sir."

Jack's initial hesitation quickly morphed into surprise. "You've never watched The Blues Brothers?"

"Nope. Never."

"And there I was thinking you were cool, Carter. It's a class–"

"O'Neill!"

Their conversation was interrupted as Teal'c's voice echoed through the house. "Yeah?"

"If yourself and Major Carter are ready to partake in movie night, Daniel Jackson is becoming _most_ impatient."

Jack quickly turned his attention back to his teammate.

"Alright, Carter. I'll make you a deal. If I agree to watch Star Wars, will you watch The Blues Brothers?"

"Yes, sir."

He nodded, then took a large swig of beer. "Alright, let's do this."

Sam followed the colonel into the den and claimed a spot on the opposite end of the small couch. Teal'c pressed play and the film had just started when Jack gently nudged Sam's shoulder. She glanced over, and was met with a pleading look, but with a subtle shake of her head, she let him know that he wasn't getting out of it. She waited a few moments, then shifted slightly closer to him and placed a hand on his arm.

"May the force be with you, sir," she smirked, as she turned her attention back to the movie.


	3. The Last Straw

**Author's Note: A slightly extended scene, if you will, from season 8 'Threads', when Jacob tells Sam that she can still have everything she wants. This is an angsty one! Written for 'Drinking Straw Day' on 3 January.**

* * *

"You can still have everything you want."

Sam reached up and took her father's hand gently in hers. She wasn't sure what she expected him to talk about as he lay dying, but questioning her happiness and what she did – or didn't – have in her life hadn't ranked highly on the list. But she was fine. She had an amazing job; she had a supportive team that always had her back; and now that she had Pete, the previously oft-neglected personal side of her life – that consisted of family and kids – was possible. And that was what she wanted… wasn't it?

Before she could dwell on the question too much, she caught her dad studying her, and the words had left her mouth before she could stop them.

"I do, dad."

His sigh of frustration surprised her, as did the look of disbelief on his face, but she didn't want to argue with him. Not now. She averted her gaze as another wave of emotion threatened to overwhelm her. In his unique fatherly way, all Jacob had ever wanted, was for her to be happy. The two of them may not always have seen eye-to-eye on how to achieve those goals, but none of it mattered anymore. All that mattered to Sam was for her dad to know that she would be fine.

"Really," she stressed, when his expression didn't change.

She squeezed his fingers tighter and rested her chin on their entwined hands. Her eyes had just slipped closed when Jacob started to cough. Sam jumped to her feet and was just about to call for a nurse when her dad shook his head.

"Water," he gasped.

She reached over and lifted a small plastic tumbler from the nearby unit, and Jacob nodded as he tried to catch his breath. His hands shook as he tried to reach for a drink, so Sam carefully pushed his hand away and held the straw between her fingers. He nodded again when he finished, but instead of placing it back on the unit, Sam held onto it and returned to her chair.

"You know," Jacob said tiredly, a sad smile twisting his lips as his eyes focused on the item in Sam's hands. "I remember the days when I had to do that for you."

"I remember too," she whispered.

"You had just turned four," Jacob continued wistfully, his gaze shifting to his daughter's face, "and had strep throat. The only thing you could eat was ice cream, which you were happy about for a while, but it wasn't the most nutritious meal for a child." A soft chuckle escaped him at the memory. "You ate so much ice cream you made yourself sick – in the end you could only manage water."

"I had a tumbler with pictures of the moon and stars on it," Sam interjected fondly. "The straw matched."

Jacob nodded before his expression turned serious. Carefully, he leaned on his elbows and propped himself back against the pillows.

"I worried about you," he admitted. "All I could do was make sure you took a drink every few minutes. I felt so helpless, but your mom – your mom was amazing, and she – she said something at the time, and it's always stuck. She –"

He stopped abruptly as he started to cough again.

"Take it easy, dad."

He nodded in response and forced the words out through shallow breaths. "Your mom – she – she said I – I was looking after somebody – protecting somebody – that I loved – and – and that it would – make you feel better – than any medicine ever would."

A tear escaped Sam and she quickly swiped it away, not noticing how her father's attention quickly drifted over her shoulder towards the door.

"Your mom was right."

At her frown, he captured her hand in his. "You trusted me – to look after you, Sam. And the people we love – we always look after them – in – in the good times – and the bad. Even in ways we don't realize."

Sam bit down on her bottom lip to try and stop more tears from falling.

"You'll forever be my baby girl – and I am so – so proud of you, Sammie. In everything. You have grown into a beautiful, smart, intelligent woman. You have the most incredible job." His grip tightened on her hand. "And you – you have three men who would do anything for you," he added, before he lowered his voice. "One in particular who I know –"

"Dad –"

"What I'm trying to say is – is that – it – it's okay to let someone help you. Let someone look after you again."

"I don't –"

"Trust him," he whispered intently. "Trust _me._ One last time. _Please._ "

"Dad, I –"

A light knock on the door interrupted and Sam turned to see the General standing awkwardly in the doorway. She went to stand, but he shook his head.

"Come on in, Jack," Jacob called weakly before he addressed Sam. "You should get some rest, kiddo."

"I'm not leaving you."

"I'll be fine for a while yet," he assured her. "I'd actually like Jack to sit with me for a while."

Her forehead wrinkled slightly at the request. "Are you sure?"

"I don't mind, Carter," Jack answered and despite the turmoil Sam was currently experiencing, his voice – his presence – just… _him._ It was the anchor she didn't realize she so suddenly and desperately needed.

The slightest movement caught her attention and she looked down to see the general's right hand outstretched, palm facing upwards.

"I'll look after him until you're back. Or I can stay," he added quietly. "If that's what you want."

Her eyes snapped to his and she noticed an intensity that wasn't there moments earlier. A myriad of emotions passed through his eyes, and she caught the moment when he told her everything.

 _You can trust me.  
_  
He took a step closer, his next words murmured for her ears only. "Your dad's right too, you know."

Sam didn't need to question him. She had made her decision, and almost immediately, the uncomfortable, crushing weight that had been pressing down on her ever since she had chosen Pete, had vanished.

Her hand shook as she slowly reached forward to place the tumbler in his hand, but before she could fully let go, Jack twisted his fingers around to catch hers. The movement was slight, but deliberate. The touch brief, but enough. Its meaning simple, and profound.

He would be with her today, and every day if that was what she wanted. And finally, she could admit that that was exactly what she wanted.


	4. Bark Like A Chicken

**Author's Note: Written for today's holiday, 'Hypnotism Day'. Set during season 1's 'Fire and Water', when TPTB graced us with a proper Sam/Jack hug.**

* * *

"Sit down, Colonel."

He refuses to do what MacKenzie says and his hands clench into fists at his sides.

"Bring her out. Now."

"No," the doctor replies firmly. "This is part of the process. She has to do this."

"That's bullsh–"

Another scream rips free from Sam's throat and Jack's gaze snaps to his teammate. He takes a step closer and glares when MacKenzie orders him not to act further. Jack can feel his anger rising until it balances precariously on the precipice, and he knows this could end badly, because he _feels_ dangerous, and he doesn't want to think about what he'll do if the doc addresses him like that again. The only thing that sways him back to just this side of subordination is a cry from Sam and he quickly tries to pull himself together, for her. But within seconds she becomes increasingly more upset, crying and shouting as she recalls the events of their mission to P3X-866.

"Captain!"

But she just shouts over MacKenzie, rather than responds to him, and Jack sees she is too far gone, too lost in her memories, so when she bolts from her chair and starts hyperventilating, he decides he doesn't really give a damn about the shrink's orders.

"Screw this," he growls as he crosses the room and grabs Sam's shoulders, spins her around and gives her a shake.

"Carter!"

He's slightly stunned that he is able to get her to snap out of her trance so quickly, but before he can say anything, her hands are brushing against his chest and the pain in her voice is unmistakable.

"Oh, my god, Colonel. We left him behind!"

His grip tightens as he tries to settle her and he sees the tears streaming down her face, but it's the break in her voice that turns out to be what almost breaks him and without thinking, he pulls her close.

"We left him behind!"

"I know," he says earnestly, because he does know. He was also re-living the mission while Sam was under hypnosis, and her admission confirms his suspicions – they had left Daniel behind.

Instinctively, he feels the need to protect her and his arms wrap around her shoulders as hers snake around his back and her hands bunch in the material of his t-shirt, pulling it tight as she tries to draw some kind of comfort, some anchor back to reality.

"It's all right," he soothes, suddenly not caring for the speculative look MacKenzie is now throwing at him, nor how his actions might look to Hammond from his spot in the observation room.

Jack glances up and sees his commanding officer watching him closely, but instead of anger or disapproval, there's only concern in the older man's gaze, and it's enough for Jack to decide.

"We're going back," he murmurs in Sam's ear. He feels the slightest nod in response, and he pulls her impossibly closer, letting one of his hands gently rest against the back of her head, his thumb stroking her hair.

"We're going back," he repeats, his eyes never leaving Hammond's. It's only when the general nods and approves Jack's demand, does he break the contact.

He buries his face against Sam's shoulder as relief flows through him.

"It felt so real," he hears her whisper and he gives her a light squeeze. "You're safe, Sam. I promise," he adds as he drops a feather-light kiss against her skin, right before he pulls back and looks her in the eye.

"Let's go bring him home, captain."


	5. Would You Like Pie With That?

**Author's Note: Sorry I'm late with this ficlet – the day ran away on me! Set post-series, just after Christmas. All of the team appear, but it is S/J established.**

 **Written for 'Whipped Cream Day'.**

* * *

"Uh, guys?"

Jack rinsed the last of the dishes under the tap and grabbed a towel before he turned around to face Daniel.

"Yeah?"

"I know I'm probably going to regret asking, but –" He lifted his head from the refrigerator, glanced over at his friends and frowned. "Why do you have so many cans of whipped cream?"

Jack glanced at Sam and smirked as a blush appeared on her face. When Daniel coughed awkwardly, his smirk widened.

"It's not what you think," Sam quickly answered as she rolled her eyes at her husband. "Just ignore him."

"I plan to," Daniel confirmed. "So, what's with all the cream? You don't even like –" he stopped abruptly as his eyes widened. "Sam? Are you –"

"No," she interrupted, then smirked herself when she saw the look on the faces of both men. "I'm not pregnant again. Don't worry, it's not to satisfy any cravings."

"That's what you think," Jack muttered under his breath. Or, at least that's what he thought until Sam elbowed him in the ribs.

 _"Jack!"_ she admonished.

"Hey, you can't blame a guy for trying."

"For what other purpose would you have such a vast amount of cream, O'Neill, if not to eat it?"

Jack's amusement vanished at Teal'c's question. "Uh –"

"Can we please change the subject?" Sam asked as she took the can of whipped cream from Daniel and set it back inside the refrigerator.

"But you never answered my question."

"For crying out loud," Jack muttered as he reached back into the refrigerator and pressed it into the archaeologist's hand. _"Grace!"_ he then called, making Daniel wince.

Moments later, the little five-year-old appeared in the kitchen with a teddy bear under her arm. "Yes, daddy?"

He crouched down to her level and smiled. "Uncle Daniel and uncle Teal'c want to see the game Santa brought you for Christmas."

Her face lit up. "Really?"

"Really," he nodded. "Go and show 'em, kiddo."

With an enthusiastic nod, Grace reached up, grabbed Daniel's hand and started to drag him out of the kitchen. "Come on, uncle T!" she added over her shoulder.

As both men disappeared, Sam and Jack shared a smile.

"You're evil," she giggled, as Jack stepped closer and wrapped his arms around her waist.

"Maybe," he shrugged. "But I'm also a genius."

She smiled as he placed a kiss to the side of her head. "How's that?"

"Well," he drawled. " _I_ know Gracie got Pie Face for Christmas, and _you_ know Gracie got Pie Face for Christmas, but _Daniel_ doesn't. Yet."

"But he's about to."

"Yep, so he'll finally get an answer as to why we've all that damn cream in the house."

"Why didn't you just tell him yourself?"

"Because by then it'll be too late and he'll have to play the game with her – and I am not passing up the opportunity to see Daniel get hit in the face with a handful of cream."

Sam tried to hide her smile, but failed, as she caught the glee in her husband's expression. He was just like a child at times. She shook her head in amusement, but before she could say anything, a delighted squeal filled the house, followed by the loud laughter of Teal'c, and then an annoyed yell from Daniel.

 _"JACK!"_

"Come on, Carter. This is gonna be good!" he grinned.


	6. Sidearms And Smiles

**Author's Note: Set after season 1 'Solitudes' and written for 'Cuddle Up Day'.**

* * *

Jack leaned against the cushions on the couch and propped his feet up on the coffee table. He sighed contentedly and called to Daniel and Teal'c in the kitchen as they stored the groceries.

"Can one of you guys bring me a beer?"

"Janet said no beer for another few days, sir," Sam replied with a smile as she carefully sat down at the other end of the couch.

"Yeah, well, the doc isn't here," he said with a touch of relief.

Following his near-death experience in Antarctica, it had taken three full weeks before he had finally been deemed well enough to leave the infirmary and, as this was his first night back in his own home, he'd invited the rest of the team over so they could all relax away from the confines of their job. A movie night was the best way to do that – along with some pizza and beer thrown in – and Jack craned his neck to see if there was any sign of his drink making an appearance. Seeing nothing, he settled back against the cushion and sighed.

Slowly, his gaze slid to his left and he silently observed his captain. Ever since he'd regained consciousness he felt Sam had been a little 'off' with him and he found it disconcerting. He couldn't remember much from the mission but he was pretty sure he hadn't done anything to put her on edge. He was just about to ask if she was alright when Teal'c entered the den with a bottle of beer in one hand and a can of diet soda in the other.

"Excellent!" Jack clasped his hands together, only to be left disappointed when his teammate handed him the soda and gave Carter the beer.

"I asked for be–"

"Doctor Frasier said you are to refrain from consuming alcoholic beverages."

"But –"

"Doctor Frasier also said I was to resist your quarrelsome discourse."

"I don't care… Huh?"

"Janet said you'd get argumentative," Daniel clarified as he too entered the room before claiming the armchair as his. Defeated, Jack took the can from Teal'c.

 _"Fine,"_ he huffed as he watched the Jaffa put the movie in the recorder, but when a shiver suddenly ran down his spine, he cursed silently. Even though he'd been home for a few weeks, he still felt the bone-deep chill from the ice. Movement out of the corner of his eye drew his attention as Sam drew her knees up to her chest and hugged them tight. If he looked close enough, even in the dim light of the den, he could see her shiver too. Without a second thought, he pulled the large throw from the back of the couch and draped it over himself. He then reached over, tapped the back of his fingers against Sam's arm and gestured for her to move closer. The hesitancy in her expression surprised him, but before he had time to question it, she smiled shyly and shuffled over to his side, quickly tucking the throw around her legs and feet.

* * *

Jack wasn't sure when he fell asleep, or even how long he had been sleeping. All he knew was that the movie was no longer playing, the room was in darkness and there was a heavy, but strangely comforting, weight that rested on his stomach and chest. As his eyes adjusted to his surroundings, he also noticed that neither Teal'c nor Daniel were there. He vaguely tried to guess the time and assumed it was late, which meant they had probably returned to the base.

As Jack tried to get into a more comfortable position, he realized he couldn't move and as he glanced down he could just make out a mass of blonde hair, splayed in every direction. He felt his breath catch and he froze. It was Carter, and suddenly he was bombarded by flashbacks of their time together in Antarctica and the conversations they'd had.

 _"I should have gotten you out of here by now."_

 _"You will."_

* * *

 _"Sam, I'm dying. Please."_

* * *

 _"I'm gonna try and bring back help, sir."_

* * *

 _"Sara…"_

 _"I'm here, Jack. You can sleep now... It was an honor serving with you too."_

* * *

 _"It's my sidearm, I swear."_

* * *

"Ah, crap."

He remembered everything.

His groan jarred Sam from her sleep and she jumped into a sitting position, where her surprise was quickly replaced by confusion. "Sir?"

"Yeah?"

He was met with silence and frowned – only to remember that Sam probably couldn't see it in the dark.

"I'm sorry," she whispered.

"For what?"

"I... Nothing," she said, before she carefully untangled herself from his side.

Trying not to focus on his disappointment at Sam moving away, he pressed her last words. "It's obviously not 'nothing', Carter."

"With respect, sir, what makes you think –"

"After what we've been through these last few weeks," he cut in gently. "Trust me when I say I know something's bothering you."

He heard her sigh and he waited.

"I thought we were back in Antarctica," she whispered. "And I panicked. I thought I needed to save you – to bring you home."

Her words hit Jack hard and he closed his eyes. With everything that had happened, he had forgotten to thank Sam for what she had done. He'd heard from Daniel, and Janet, and even General Hammond, about how his second had willingly gone above and beyond the call of duty to save his sorry ass and Jack knew that he would never be able to fully thank her for her efforts. But he could try.

"I never did thank you," he said quietly. "For saving my life."

He felt Sam turn to face him. "I just did what –"

"Can you drop the military 'it-was-my-job' crap for a minute? Please?" He added, realizing his words had come out harsher than intended.

Slowly, he reached out and placed a hand on Sam's shoulder. "I know many a soldier who wouldn't have shown that level of dedication or loyalty. Thank you, Sam. Really," he murmured as he squeezed her shoulder.

"It was an honor. Sir."

Jack leaned forwards to meet her gaze. This close to her, he could see her eyes shining brightly, but the insecurity and doubt that had clouded them over the past number of days had vanished. As the seconds ticked by, Sam's hands were intertwined in her lap, while Jack's still rested on her shoulder. He felt, rather than saw, her shiver and he caught her nervous laugh. "I don't think I'll ever be warm again."

"You will," he answered confidently.

"It's been over three weeks – I'm still cold."

"You're obviously doing something wrong then. Have you followed your own advice?"

"Sir?"

Jack pursed his lips as he considered his options, but he already knew what he was going to do. His hand tightened on her shoulder as he steered her back towards him. "C'mere."

He lay down on the couch, with Sam now lying half on top of him.

"Uh, sir?"

"Sssh. We're combining body heat to make it through the rest of the night, remember?"

It took a few moments for his words to register and before he finally felt Sam relax against him. He heard the amusement in her voice when she answered his question.

"Yes, sir."

"Good. Now, get some rest. That's an order."

He held his breath as Sam shifted her position slightly to get more comfortable, and when he felt her arms sneak around his waist he tried desperately hard not to think about how nice it felt – and not just because he had no broken ribs this time. Deciding he didn't want to go down that potential minefield just now, he reached around his teammate, pulling the throw over them and, satisfied it covered them both, he wrapped his arms around her and enveloped her in a hug.

It didn't take long before his thoughts – dangerously – started to wander at how nice it felt to hold Sam in his arms but he had obviously been thinking just a little too much because when he moved, he felt a vibration across his chest. It took a moment for him to realize the movement had been caused by Sam giggling. His discomfort grew – then it dawned on him.

"Uh..."

"Don't worry, Colonel," she answered, her voice full of mirth. "I remember what you said."

He nodded slowly. "OK…"

He felt her smile against his chest and closed his eyes. He knew what was coming next.

"Your sidearm is safe with me," Sam quipped, before she dissolved into another fit of giggles.


	7. Holding Hands And Skimming Stones

**Author's Note: Written for 'National** **Old** **Rock** **Day' on 7 January. The definition for this holiday is, "an opportunity to enjoy and appreciate** **old** **rocks** **and fossils. By definition, fossils are** **old** **rocks** **. Jewelry stones are** **old** **rocks** **…" So, I took an idea I had a long time ago and ran with it! Missing scene for season 8 Moebius after that** _ **fantastic**_ **scene with Jack, Sam and their hands totally touching at the Briefing Room table.**

* * *

"Can I come in, sir?" Carter questioned warily from the doorway.

At her voice, Jack glanced up from the report he was reading and smiled softly.

"Yeah, close the door." He gestured towards the empty chairs in his office, signed off on the report, and placed it in the outbox while Sam followed his order. He gave her a quick once over and felt his pulse quicken at the sight. It had been just over a month since Jacob's death, but in those four weeks something had shifted between the two former teammates. No in-depth conversations had been held, but they both knew the moment everything had changed. The moment when they were no longer commanding officer and second-in-command, but something more.

Jack took the time to study her and a smile tugged at his lips. His colonel looked peaceful – which was strange, considering everything she had been through recently with the Replicators, the Goa'uld, her dad, Pete...

"Sir –" Sam cleared her throat and tried again. _"Jack."_

He smirked. _"Sam?"_

"You broke our deal."

"I've no idea what you're talking about, Carter," he drawled as he leaned back in his chair.

Sam didn't look convinced. "Really?"

"Mhmm."

"So, you don't recall 'accidentally' brushing your hand over the top of mine this morning during the briefing."

He met her gaze steadily and twinkling brown eyes matched inquisitive blue.

"Oh, I recall that incident _very_ well," he admitted as his smirk widened. "It's the 'our deal' part, I'm having trouble with," he finished, drawing air quotes around the words.

Sam cocked her head to the side. "We made a deal to keep this quiet _and_ off base," she answered seriously as she gestured between the two of them with her hands.

"What can I say, Carter?" He shrugged. "You have nice hands."

"Be serious, Jack!"

"I am."

Any previous joking was gone and replaced by complete sincerity and it caused Sam to hesitate. "Why'd you do it?"

He thought about what to say but he couldn't focus when she gazed at him like that, her eyes blue and wide and beautiful, so he looked away, only for his attention to fall on a pen lying on the desk. He picked it up and started dismantling it like it held the secrets of the universe.

"If you must know," he eventually answered. "It was research."

"Research?"

"Yeah."

 _Three._

He didn't look up but he knew Sam was confused by his answer.

 _Two._

He tried not to smile at the tiny frown that puckered her brow as she waited for him to continue.

 _One._

"What kind of research were you trying to conduct by touching my hand?"

With a glint in his eye, Jack slowly placed the remains of the pen down, rested his elbows on the desk and clasped his hands together.

"Jack?"

"If you really must know," he sighed. "I was –"

Movement from behind the window in his office caught his attention and he SG-5 entering the Briefing Room. His gaze returned to the woman sitting in front of him and he grinned as he gave her one final approving look.

"It'll have to wait," he said, ignoring Sam's annoyed expression. "I've a briefing to get to."

When he got to his feet and Sam followed, he promised that he would meet her top side at eighteen-hundred hours and explain everything. She nodded in response and he watched contentedly as she walked out of his office and through the Briefing Room, saying hello to the team as she passed. As soon as Jack was sure she was out of sight, he grinned.

His explanation would just have to wait because as much as he wanted to shout it from the top of the mountain, he also wanted Sam all to himself before he revealed that his earlier research was to do with the diamond and blue topaz engagement ring currently sitting in the top drawer of his desk and how perfect it would look sitting on her left hand.

* * *

 **I probably should have mentioned this at the beginning of the series, but there are some days where there's actually more than one 'holiday' or event being celebrated. I've just decided to choose the one that seems more fun, or suits Sam/Jack best. I have a physical calendar with these holidays all listed, but for anyone who wants a look at the weird and wacky things celebrated, they can all be found on the 'Days of the Year' website.**


	8. An Ode To Carter

**Author's Note: Written for 'Poetry At Work' Day. Set sometime during season 8, and for the purpose of this fic, I'm just going with the view that Pete doesn't exist.**

* * *

"So, as you can see from this image here," Daniel said as another photograph appeared on the screen. "This was taken from inside the cave. And just there –" he added, as he clicked onto the top right corner of the image. "It's clearly cuneiform."

When his revelation didn't get any response, he waved a hand in the air and continued excitedly. "And this is where things get really interesting, because here –" he said, as he highlighted a different section of the carvings, "this is incorrect for this system of writing."

Jack bit back a sigh. "What's your point, Daniel?"

"Well, as we know, cuneiform writing began as a system of pictograms –"

"English 101," came Jack's droll reply, which garnered a smirk from Carter.

"– which stemmed from an even earlier system of shapes, but in the third millennium, these pictorial representations became simplified and more abstract as –"

"Daniel?"

"Right," he nodded. "I'm getting to my point now."

"Get there quicker."

Unaware of the long-suffering look that was shared by the others around the briefing room table, he continued. "The system is a combination of logophonetic, consonantal alphabetic and syllabic signs –"

"Oh, jeez," Jack sighed.

"– but the structure is more akin to that of, uh, poetry."

"Poetry?" Jack echoed. "You want me to send SG-1 on a four-day mission to read poetry?"

"No. Uh, yes. Well –" Daniel winced, then glanced down at his mission folder. "I say poetry, but it's more like… a series of limericks."

"Limer – forget it, Daniel. I'm –"

"Look, I know this sounds ridiculous, but I think it could be important, Jack."

"How?"

"Well, this is clearly an example of two ancient cultures, with vastly different –"

"Daniel," he interrupted, with more patience than he thought he had. "Have you been able to translate any of those symbols?"

"I've tried, but –"

"And do they hint at anything even remotely important?"

"That's why we need to go to PCZ-568, because –"

"So, let SG-11 handle this one."

"Jack –" Daniel removed his glasses and pinched the bridge of his nose.

Jack knew he was giving the archaeologist a hard time, as this discovery – whatever it may or may not turn out to be – was his friend's area of expertise, but with Anubis still lurking somewhere in the galaxy, sending SG-1 off-world to read some poems was not high on his agenda.

The two men stared at each other from opposite ends of the table, when Teal'c interrupted. "Daniel Jackson, what is a limerick?"

Despite the tension in the room, Jack couldn't help but snort, and he chose to ignore the glare that Daniel sent his direction.

"Uh, a limerick, in this context, is a five-line poem," he explained. "Typically, its content is of a humorous nature."

"Doesn't it has a specific rhyme scheme?" Sam asked, then quickly shrugged at the 'what-do-you-think-you're-doing' look Jack gave her.

"Yes," Daniel nodded before he took his seat. "So, the first, second, and fifth lines rhyme with each other, and the third and fourth lines, which are shorter, form a rhyming couplet."

After a few moments of silence, Teal'c answered with a solemn, "I see", even though Jack could see that the Jaffa hadn't grasped the concept at all.

"Could we get back on track here," Jack said with a long-suffering sigh.

"Yes, as I was saying, it's believed –"

Deciding he'd definitely heard enough, the General tuned out Daniel's voice and flipped open his notepad and started to write. He now had various limericks going through his head and while most of them were childish or else particularly rude, he still found them amusing. Like the one about the man from Nantucket –

 _"Sir?"_

Jack's head shot up when Sam's hand came to rest on his arm, but when he looked around the table, he saw all three of his former teammates staring at him. Clearly, they had decided the briefing had finished and were waiting to see whether they would be going off-world or not. He cast another quick glance at Carter and when he saw her attention focused on his notes, he tried to subtly shield them from view.

"Fine," he finally sighed, but when he saw Daniel's curious expression replaced with one of excitement, he pointed at his friend. "But only for two days."

"Two days?"

"Two days is fine, sir. Thank you," Carter replied quickly.

When no further comments were made, Jack dismissed the team. He was vaguely aware of them collecting their notes, but he didn't realize they were still hovering until Daniel appeared at his shoulder.

"Jack?"

He quickly ripped the page from the notepad as he got to his feet. "Daniel?"

"What are you doing?"

"Nothing," he answered. "Don't you have a mission to get ready for?"

"Yeah," he said, then gestured towards the paper in Jack's hand. "What's that?"

"Notes. From the briefing."

"Can I see them?"

"No."

Studiously ignoring his answer, Daniel forged on ahead. "Why not?"

"Classified."

With a roll of his eyes, the younger man reached out and grabbed the page before Jack could stop him, and then stepped out of his reach.

 _"Daniel –"_

"Is this a limerick?"

"Give it back. _Now._ "

"What does it say?"

Jack winced at Carter's question. He'd momentarily forgotten she and Teal'c were still there. Unfortunately, Daniel, distracted by the paper in his hand, seemed to forgotten that very important point too when he started to read.

 _"There once was a colonel called Carter,  
Who just seemed to get hotter and hotter._ _  
_ _With a handful of sass,_ _  
_ _And a really nice –"_

"I'll take that, thank you," Jack snapped as he plucked the sheet from his hand.

He refused to look Sam in the eye, but he could feel her gaze burning into him. After what felt like an eternity, she finally spoke, her voice quiet and unsure.

"Daniel, Teal'c. Go get geared up."

She waited until they left the room before she moved closer to the General, who instinctively took a step back, only to freeze when Sam shook her head. She reached out and he silently handed over the now crumpled piece of paper.

She frowned as she read its contents. "You didn't finish it."

Jack eyebrows shot up in surprise. Whatever he had been expecting his former second-in-command to say, that hadn't been it. He was also surprised at the lack of anger or disapproval in her voice, but rather the curiosity that lined her statement.

"No."

"Why not?"

"I, uh…"

"Couldn't find anything else to rhyme with Carter?"

"I –" He hesitated when he saw the slightest smile grace her lips. So, safe in the knowledge that she wasn't angry, he smirked. "Is that sass I hear, Carter?"

She shrugged, but Jack's amusement quickly faded. "Look, Sam, I'm sorry, I –"

"Are you?"

Truthfully, Jack wasn't sure. He was sorry that Sam heard the limerick, but he wasn't necessarily sorry over its content because, in his unbiased opinion, everything he'd written was true. So, he decided it was best to go with honesty.

"I'm sorry I got caught."

When Sam narrowed her eyes, he grimaced. "It's inappropriate, I know, but I also meant every word," he added quietly. "I'm not sorry about that."

He waited with baited breath as Sam worked through his answer, her expression switching from surprise to embarrassment to determination in one fell swoop.

"Can I keep this?" She asked, holding the page in the air.

"I think it'd be best if you got rid of it."

"No! I – I want to keep it."

"What? Why?"

A pink blush appeared on Sam's face, which intrigued him and he cocked his head to the side. "Carter?"

"I've never had a poem written about me before."

"It's a _limerick_ , Carter. It's hardly Walt Wiltman or Emily Dickinson or even Shakespeare, for crying out loud."

"No, it's not," she agreed. "It's you."

Her eyes met his and Jack found himself unable to look away.

"Carter, I don't think it'd be a good idea," he murmured. "It's not exactly... conventional."

"Probably not," she said, matching his tone. "But can I ask you something, sir?"

"Sure."

Carefully, she folded the piece of paper and tucked it into the pocket of her BDUs, before she took a step back and started to make her way out of the room. "When have we ever been conventional?"

* * *

 **I'm not sure I like the ending for this one... I'm sorry it sucks!**


	9. Static And Sparks

**Author's Note: Written for Static Electricity Day. Kudos must go to CoraClavia for today's entry, as one of her comments sparked (no pun intended) the inspiration for this fic. The comment was: "Jack is 100% the kind of person who "accidentally" does things like brush her [Sam's] hand or touch her back while holding a door open at work".**

* * *

He doesn't realize how often he touches her. It's never anything incriminating, he thinks. Just little things. Like the way his arm grazes hers as they walk down a corridor, or when he catches her trying to pull another all-nighter in her lab, so he gives her shoulder a light squeeze right before he tells her to get some sleep.

 _Innocuous_ , he reminds himself. Completely and utterly innocuous.

Except for when it's not.

And it's only when the touching becomes a _literal_ problem that he thinks he might be in trouble.

But then the annoying little voice in his head makes itself known, and when he really thinks about it, Jack O'Neill always knew that touching Carter would get him into trouble one day.

Like today. Damn Carter and her scientific curiosity.

He quickly takes the last thought back. Damn _Jacob_ Carter...

The day had started out quietly, until the Tok'ra appeared. Or, more specifically, Jacob. According to him, one of their undercover operatives recently stumbled across what was thought to be a long-forgotten doohickey of some kind. No-one was quite sure _what_ the device actually did, but as it was rumored to be another piece of technology left behind by the Ancients, SG-1 had volunteered to take a look.

That was the team's first mistake, Jack reckons.

After gating to the – thankfully – uninhabited planet, SG-1, along with Jacob, had to hike twelve klicks through the desert before they found the temple in question. It had long been abandoned, and the only thing that appeared to be of any value was a large purple artefact situated in the inner sanctum of the structure. Upon closer inspection, Jack thought the artefact looked suspiciously like a plasma globe. It emitted a low buzzing noise, which was periodically interrupted by a soft crackle or hiss when two or three of the colored beams inside the orb converged.

It didn't take long for Jack to catch the look in Carter's eye and he'd quickly warned her not to touch anything. To be fair, she had begrudgingly followed his order, but it soon turned out to be a matter of no importance when, without warning, one of the beams seemed to pierce the surface and sparked Sam's right hand. But it wasn't just her. Oh no, the machine also zapped _him_ because he'd also been too curious and was at the other side of the device, and just as close.

And that was their second mistake.

The charge was so strong it had thrown both officers into the air and meters clear of the pedestal, with Daniel, Teal'c and Jacob quickly running to their aid to see if they were alright.

Aside from feeling considerably more awake than he had moments earlier, Jack's entire body tingled. Sam looked shaken, but insisted that she was fine, however Jacob overruled them all and called time on the mission. They'd made the gruelling trip back to the gate with Jacob promising Sam that they would come back – provided there were no lasting injuries from whatever the hell had happened back in the temple.

Janet hadn't been able to find anything wrong with either of them, and aside from a mild tingling sensation, they were in no pain or discomfort, so she'd had no choice but to discharge them from the infirmary.

And that's when the problem started. When Jack inadvertently reached out to help Sam off her bed and a sharp electric jolt travelled through the both of them as their hands touched.

Another round of tests ensued, which ended with more questions than answers, so the doc had grounded the team until they got to the bottom of the issue.

Now, here they are, stuck on base and trying to figure out how to reverse the effects from the orb. And all because the electric shocks only occur when he and Sam make contact. It doesn't happen with _anybody_ else. _Of course it wouldn't_.

With every shock they experience, it hurts for a few seconds, or it takes one of them by surprise, and the resulting 'ouch' or 'hey' they yell, helps alert everyone within hearing distance that they've touched again. Which wouldn't necessarily be a pressing issue when alien technology is to blame – but Jack's mind circles back to his original thought.

He doesn't realize how often he touches her.

He runs his free hand over his face and groans as he enters Sam's lab.

"Carter."

She throws him an awkward smile before she addresses him. "How's the translation going?"

"Ah, Dad and Daniel are handling it. I think." He frowns slightly. "At least that's what they told me."

"Did they kick you out, sir?"

"Yeah," he sighs.

"Dare I ask why?"

A shrug is her answer, so she rolls her eyes good-naturedly.

"You have any luck figuring this thing out?"

Sam shakes her head, then hesitates and nods instead. "Kind of, sir."

"Go on," he says with a wave of his hand as he sets a fresh cup of coffee on the lab bench. Sam's eyes drift to the cup, and Jack rolls his eyes. "It's for you," he confirms.

With a smile, Sam reaches for the coffee but the colonel gets there first and hands it to her. His fingers cover hers, like they've probably done so many times before, but the resulting shock sends them both jumping backwards and the hot liquid pooling onto the floor.

"Crap. Sorry, Carter."

"It's fine, sir," she says, and half-turns towards the computer, ignoring the spilled coffee for now, as if she needs a distraction. "From what I can tell, it's like static electricity."

"Then why did it not stop the first time there was a spark between us?"

He realizes too late how his question sounds, and when Sam's eyes widen, he wonders how he can take it back. But he can't, and it's Carter, and she _knows_ , so he shoves a hand in the pocket of his BDUs, shrugs, and hopes she accepts his attempt at an apology.

"I don't know," she continues quietly, a light blush on her face as she studiously avoids his gaze. "But static electricity is formed when two insulators are rubbed together. This generates a static field of imbalanced positive and negatively charged ions –"

She pauses, risks a quick glance in his direction, and he nods to let her know that he's still with her.

"OK, so when those charged insulators come into contact with a conductor – like metal – the charge is released."

"We aren't made of metal, Carter. Unless Harlan's been messing around again."

His comment elicits a small smile from Sam, who adds, "But it doesn't explain why this – _charge_ – is still here. I have a few more calculations to run, but another larger shock should counteract whatever _this_ is." She glances at her laptop and frowns. "I think I can figure out the level we'd need, but until Daniel figures out _why_ this is happening, I'd rather not do anything."

Jack nods in understanding. It's one thing to get involved with alien technology; but it's a completely different story to start messing about with it when you don't have all the facts. He goes to speak, only to discover he's unwittingly made his way around to stand beside Carter, and he's close enough to hear the catch in her breathing as she looks up at him.

"Do you think it might just wear off?"

"It's possible," she muses, "but I really don't know."

He sees Sam flex her hand. "You alright?"

"It stings a little," she admits, "but it's okay."

It's his fault after all, because he can't keep his hands to himself, and he does feel bad that he's caused her pain, but he doesn't think vocalizing that point would help the situation. Instead he reaches out, his hand hovering just above her shoulder when he realizes what he is doing.

"Shit."

Sam freezes when she sees how close he is and it's only when his hand falls to his side, that she moves her chair and swivels it around so she can lean on the backrest.

It's a barrier she erects so that he can't touch her. _Because he really can't touch her_.

The touches hurt more every time, and he isn't convinced it's just down to the electricity coursing through their veins anymore.

He sees the apology in her eyes and he gets it – he really does – but the realization over their situation still hurts.

"You should go," she murmurs, moments later. "See how Dad is getting on."

He takes a breath and raps his knuckles on the desk once, twice, three times before he presses his hand, palm down, onto the surface. His fingers splay as he slides his hand forward and he waits. Moments later, when Sam's own fingers appear, the tips sliding in between his but not touching, he meets her gaze. She's now studying him, seeking answers to the questions she has, wanting to tell him the things she can't. He just hopes he's doing the same.


	10. Chocolate Kisses

**Author's Note: For 'Bittersweet Chocolate Day'. Set early season six.**

* * *

Jack turned the bar of chocolate over in his hands. It was an action he'd repeated for twenty minutes as he waited impatiently for his watch to end. Just one more hour to go. He twirled the treat once more and watched the light from the small campfire reflect off the foil wrapping and highlight the writing on the label.

 _Bittersweet chocolate with almonds._

Carter's favorite.

He sighed heavily.

The first time he'd caught Sam eating chocolate had been during their first year together as a team. Ironically, when they thought Daniel had died on Oannes.

The three remaining members of SG-1 had gathered at Jack's house for the wake and spent a few hours with other members of the SGC as they reminisced about the kooky archaeologist. But it was during one of the colonel's beverage runs to the kitchen, when he'd found Sam hiding there – and making her way through a bar of chocolate.

He never noticed the young captain eat anything sweet before – aside from blue Jell-O – and it was a discovery he found more interesting than he cared to admit. However, it was only when he'd made some off-handed comment about ruining her dinner, that Carter had shrugged and admitted she only ate chocolate when she was upset.

Ever since Sam's little revelation, Jack had made a point to keep a bar of her favorite chocolate nearby. He refused to think about why this was, but over the years, he just seemed to know when something left his teammate troubled, and whenever that happened, he would silently leave the chocolate in her lab. Or, when they were off-world, he would stash a bar in his pack.

He never asked, and Carter never said, but they both knew the small gesture was appreciated.

Unfortunately, Jack wasn't sure the same could be said for this occasion.

Movement out of the corner of his eye caught his attention and he glanced up to see his second-in-command take a seat at the other side of the campfire. She wasn't due to start her watch for another hour, but he chose not to say anything. Instead, he held back another sigh and shoved the chocolate into his backpack.

This was the team's first mission off-world with Jonas and while it hadn't necessarily been bad, it hadn't exactly been good.

 _Wrong_ was probably the most accurate word to describe it, because while Jonas was now a part of SG-1, the other three members still expected to see Daniel walk through the camp or hear his excited ramblings drift from his tent as he talked about some long-forgotten culture in his sleep.

Jack wouldn't admit it, but trying to get over the loss of his friend was a lot harder than even he expected, so he deliberately didn't deal with it – which only seemed to add to his guilt.

In the weeks that followed Daniel's ascension, Sam had tried to talk to him, but he'd shot her down every time, simply telling her that he "didn't want to hear it". Instead, he'd focused on moving forward and placed his emotions into the part of his mind where denial and regret ruled.

He ran a hand over his face. He knew Sam had taken Daniel's death incredibly hard. He'd been like a brother to her, and with hindsight, Jack realized he should have been by her side when Daniel left – if only to offer her support as her commanding officer. He had even assured Jacob that he would keep an eye on Sam in the days and weeks following Daniel's loss. But he hadn't carried out the man's wishes at all.

He cast another glance at Carter and winced. Even in the dark surroundings of their camp, he could see the pain etched in her eyes, and as the flames of the fire flickered and cast shadows across her face, it only seemed to intensify the hurt he saw – that he had caused.

His gaze drifted to the star-filled sky and wondered idly where Jacob was in the galaxy right about now. It didn't really matter in the grand scheme of things though, because Jack was in no doubt that the man would probably shoot him right about now if he was here. He shivered at the thought.

"Cold, sir?" came the soft, but even question from across camp.

It wasn't much, but he'd take it. "It's a little chilly, I guess."

When he thought about it, he realized his ass was freezing against the cold ground. He shifted slightly, pulled the zipper higher on his jacket and watched as Sam threw a few small logs onto the fire.

"Thanks, Carter."

"Yes, sir."

"It wasn't an order, you know."

"I know, sir."

He pursed his lips, then sighed. _"Sir."_

He could feel Sam's gaze burning and when he looked up, he was surprised at the coolness in her expression. Ever since the last time he had refused to talk about Daniel and he'd essentially to suck it up, she'd kept her emotions under wraps. It unnerved him. He had always been able to read Carter – knew what she was thinking – but now that he wasn't able to, it left him feeling seriously disadvantaged.

"Is something wrong, sir?"

Jack eyed her warily. They'd only been two days into the mission and the only words Sam had really uttered to him were, 'Yes, sir', 'No, sir' and the proverbial 'Three bags full, sir'.

Knowing he would probably regret the conversation, he stretched his legs out and crossed them at the ankles.

"You tell me."

"Sir?"

"It seems like something's on your mind."

She snorted in response, but he decided to ignore it and looked at the two tents to his right where Teal'c and Jonas were sleeping before meeting Sam's gaze.

"You wanna talk about it?" He winced as soon as the words left his lips.

"Talk," Sam repeated slowly. "You want to talk? Now?"

He could hear her disbelief increase with every word and he shifted uncomfortably.

"Ah… no. I asked if _you_ wanted to talk. Not me."

He heard another derisive snort, shortly followed by a muttered, "Figures."

He ran a hand over his face and sighed heavily. When he spoke, his voice was low, but firm. "We've been over this, Carter."

"Have we, sir?"

"For crying out loud," he breathed. "In case you've forgotten, _major_ , we have a job to do. We need to be out there doing it."

"We're talking about _Daniel_ , sir. He's dead."

"He's not dead."

"You know what I mean."

Jack shrugged, but didn't miss the fact that she'd left off his honorific. He waited, watching the various emotions dance across her eyes.

"That's it?" she asked incredulously, parroting his earlier shrug. "After seven years – after _everything_ you have been through together, and that's how you deal with his death?"

"Stand down, major."

"Is that an order?"

Jack bit back a response. Technically, he should have given her a dressing down, but as angry as he was at Carter, he couldn't find it within himself to actually reprimand her, because deep down he knew –in some way – that she was right. He hadn't dealt with their friend's death. He hadn't even started, but sometimes it seemed easier to just try and forget about what happened on Kelowna, than face it. People dealt with grief in different ways after all, and this was Jack's method.

He forced the thoughts aside and studied the flames of the fire, the cracks and pops of the logs the only sounds that broke the tense silence.

"What do you want me to say, Carter? 'Cause I got nothin'."

He was being unnecessarily harsh, but he didn't want to have this conversation at all, let alone off-world, across a campfire, with two potential witnesses.

Despite his anger however, Sam's next words stung. "No, sir. I guess you don't."

His eyes tracked her movements as she got to her feet and picked up her weapon.

"I'm going to check the perimeter, sir."

With that, she turned and walked away, quickly disappearing into the darkness that surrounded their small camp, while Jack's attention returned to the fire. He closed his eyes.

"Dammit, Carter."

Not only had his earlier anger suddenly dissipated, but he was left wondering – not for the first time – how he managed to screw things up so badly.

 _"O'Neill."_

Jack jumped at Teal'c's quiet address.

" _Shit!_ Teal'c I thought you were Kelno... reeming," he finished lamely.

"You are correct, O'Neill."

Jack raised a brow and waited for him to continue. "However, my attempts to continue in a state of Kelno'reem were, unfortunately, interrupted."

He directed his attention back to the fire. "Oh."

"I feel it would be best if I commenced my watch now."

Jack frowned at his friend. His expression was unreadable, but his stance said that the point was not up for discussion. Still, it didn't mean he couldn't try.

"Teal'c, your watch isn't due to start for another four hours."

"Perhaps. However, do you not feel it would be more beneficial to use this time wisely?"

"I'm not following you."

"Where is Major Carter?"

Jack grimaced. He should have known by now that not much gets passed the Jaffa.

"Oh. You heard that, huh?" He sighed. "I don't know, Teal'c. Something tells me I'm better staying here."

"On the contrary, O'Neill. You are not needed here."

"What are you trying to say?" he quipped, feigning indignation.

When Teal'c didn't answer, Jack reluctantly got to his feet.

"Samantha Carter is your friend. Do not forget that."

"Yeah. I know," he said. "Hold the fort, T."

"O'Neill," Teal'c quietly called as he started to walk away. He turned and just had enough time to catch his friend's throw. He studied it and nodded his thanks.

It took Jack a few minutes before he found her. She was standing at the edge of the outcropping they'd discovered the previous day. Sam's back was to him as she surveyed the scenery below. Aside for some local wildlife, the planet was uninhabited, and if Jack strained his neck he could just make out the valley below, which was spectacularly lit up by hundreds and thousands of fireflies swarming around. Impressed by the light show, he let out a low whistle. Moments later, Sam broke the silence.

"Permission to speak freely, sir?"

He moved closer to stand just a couple of feet behind her. "Sure."

"For a while, after Daniel left us… I hated you."

Jack frowned, hurt by her words, but a part of him also understood. He hated himself as well.

"For the first time since we've known each other – I hated you."

Slowly, she turned to face him, her eyes filled with tears.

"Carter," he breathed.

"Daniel was _dying_. My dad – he was _helping_ him – and _you_ told him to stop."

"The healing device wasn't enough, Carter. You know that."

"You told him to stop!"

"I didn't have a choice," he tried to reason, ignoring Sam's raised voice.

"You let him die."

"I didn't – I did what I had to do," he whispered. "It's what Daniel wanted."

"So you've said."

He looked at her in surprise. "You don't believe me?"

Sam shrugged before folding her arms across her chest. "I don't know what to believe anymore," she admitted softly. "For five years, you've fought and pushed and done everything in your power to make sure we always got home safe. And then – when Daniel was lying there – when there was a chance that we could have helped him, you didn't even fight. You just stood there and ordered my dad to stop. Why?"

"I told you. It's what Daniel wanted."

"Didn't you try to convince him that we could save him?"

"Carter –"

"I mean, did he not enjoy being part of SG-1 anymore, or –"

"Carter –"

"Do you even know where he is?"

 _"Carter! For crying out loud!"_

His outburst was deafening against the silence of their surroundings.

He lowered his voice, but his anger remained. "What do you want me to say, Sam? You don't think I know any of this? Because I do – and it sucks. And there's not one damn day that goes by where I don't replay that afternoon in my head. And every time, Daniel lives. So, yeah, if I could go back, I'd do whatever it takes to make sure he was still here, but I can't. I have to live with the decision I made, whether I like it or not."

He took a step closer, his voice verging on threatening. "You think you've seen me at my worst, Carter? Think again. But Danny? Yeah, he's come pretty close. He was on Abydos that first time. He knew why I'd signed up – and why I wasn't going back home. And yet –"

He stopped abruptly and closed his eyes. "And yet, that damn archaeologist wouldn't let it go," he mumbled. "I guess he saw something no-one else did, or maybe he just didn't get the memo that I wanted to be left alone, but he was the one who made me finally see that I _could_ go back home. That sacrificing myself wasn't the answer... and I'm still here," he finished, his voice barely above a whisper. "I've Daniel to thank for that. So, don't think for one moment that I don't give a damn about where he is or what's happened to him."

Stunned into silence at his honesty, Sam swiped at the tears that had escaped her. The colonel averted his gaze and she watched as he dug the toe of his right boot into the ground and dislodged some of the soil underneath.

"Sir –"

He could feel Sam's gaze on him, but couldn't look at her. Not after baring more of his soul than he'd ever wanted.

"I'm sorry."

He grimaced at her apology and turned back to face the valley below. He didn't deserve sympathy or an apology. He didn't deserve anything from her.

"Don't, Sam. Just... don't." He huffed out a breath. "I'm the one who's sorry."

"Sir? You don't –"

"Sam? Please."

She fell silent at his plea and slowly moved to stand by his side. She followed his gaze and watched as a dozen fireflies floated over their heads.

"You know, when I was younger, my dad and I used to catch fireflies. We'd have a few of them in a jar and watch them for a while, then let them go. "She hesitated when she glanced at the colonel and saw his eyes – intense and questioning – studying her. "I used to think they were messengers from heaven. I would talk to them, tell them my secrets... and when I was finished, I'd set them free – and hope they'd take my messages back to who they were intended for."

Her voice wavered slightly, but she continued. "The last time my dad and I – it was just after my mom died. I remember sitting in our back yard. Dad didn't say anything. He just watched as I captured the fireflies, talked to them, and let them go."

Jack's gaze finally shifted to the lit valley below. "It's beautiful."

He didn't elaborate, but that was fine for them both.

"Do you think Daniel's – do you think he's OK?"

Jack thought back to the last conversation he'd had with his friend.

 _I'm ready to move on._

 _You just giving up?_

 _No. No, I'm not giving up, believe me. I can do more this way. It's what I want. Everything's gonna be fine._ _  
_  
"Yeah. I do," he answered honestly.

A light breeze swirled around Jack and he slipped his hands into the pocket of his jacket only for his hand to hit off something cold. Suddenly, he remembered what it was and his fingers wrapped around the bar of chocolate Teal'c had thrown in his direction earlier.

He took a deep breath. "What about us, Carter?"

"Sir?"

"Are we gonna be OK?"

She looked at him, then down at the bar of chocolate he held. He tapped it gently against the fingers of his left hand, in an almost nervous gesture, and Sam smiled softly.

"We're OK."

He nodded, but didn't let go of the chocolate.

"C'mere," he murmured, relieved when Sam willingly stepped into his embrace.

He buried his face in her neck and took a deep breath. Another light breeze encompassed the couple and Jack looked up to the sky as he held Sam. The fireflies were moving in an elegant formation above them and as quickly as it had appeared, the breeze was gone, as were the fireflies.

Jack smiled softly. For the first time since Daniel had ascended, he truly believed that everything would be okay.


	11. Puddle Jumper

**Author's Note: Written for 'National Step In A Puddle And Splash Your Friend Day', which is today's holiday (11 January). This is based on a story I wrote years ago; hopefully it works okay, I've never really written from Hammond's POV before…**

* * *

"Close the iris," Hammond called as he descended the last few stairs into the control room and came to a stop beside Walter.

He watched as the security teams filed into the gate room and tried not to let his worry show. None of the teams currently off-world were due to return until the next morning.

"Any IDC?"

"No, sir. There's no – yes. Receiving SG-1's IDC, sir," he quickly as the code flashed across the screen.

"Open the iris," he ordered, before he moved to the intercom and requested a medical team stand by. It was SG-1 after all and they were famous for finding trouble where none existed. He turned back to face the shimmering blue event horizon when a damp-looking Daniel, Sam and Teal'c steppes through the gate, followed by one very wet and incredibly annoyed–looking Colonel O'Neill.

With a frown, the general headed for the gate room and met the team at the bottom of the ramp.

"You weren't due back until tomorrow SG-1. What happened?"

He was greeted with silence as they exchanged glances. When he looked closer, he noticed that they appeared to have been caught in a rainstorm as their BDUs clung to their bodies. He glanced down and took a half-step back when he saw a large puddle of water at his feet.

"We're fine, sir," Carter finally answered with a small smile as her gaze drifted to the medical team.

Hammond dismissed the medical personnel and turned back to SG-1 just in time to hear Jack mumble, "Maybe you're fine, but I'm certainly not."

Daniel lifted his arm and ran the damp sleeve of his jacket over his face before he tried – unsuccessfully – to dry his glasses with the cuff. He looked sheepish and avoided eye contact with Jack, while Sam appeared more amused than the archaeologist as she chewed on her bottom lip in an attempt to stop herself from laughing as her commanding officer started to wring out his cap over the general's shoes. After a wince and a mumbled 'sorry, sir,' from Jack, the general looked to Teal'c and noticed that he was virtually dry. And if he looked closer, he would swear that the corner of his mouth was turned upwards in a smile.

He sighed. "Colonel, do you care to explain why you're back so early, and why you seem considerably more – wet – than your teammates?"

A chorus of sniggers met his words.

"Mission was a bust, sir," Jack answered gruffly as he glared at Daniel and Sam. "There was nothing of any value on the planet. No civilization, no old rocks for Daniel to read and drool over –"

He turned his head slightly and put a finger in his ear to try and dispel of the water that was in there. "Even Carter's doohickey found nothing out of the ordinary with the soil," he finished.

"Very well, but it still doesn't quite explain your current appearance, Jack."

Hammond cast another glance at his flagship team and once again noticed their amusement.

"We, ah, got caught in a storm on the way back?"

The general sighed. "Briefing room. Now."

* * *

"Start from the beginning, SG-1," he said as he took a seat at the head of the table.

"We approached the mission the same as we usually do, sir," Carter answered. "After an initial scan of the area, we moved out, had a look around, found a suitable place for camp and then secured the surrounding area. Colonel O'Neill and Teal'c remained on watch as Daniel and I worked."

Nodding his head, Hammond turned to Teal'c, who was situated to his right, as he confirmed the Sam's report.

"Major Carter and Daniel Jackson only had a few hours to explore before nightfall, he added. After dinner, a rainstorm approached. Nothing else eventful occurred as we took our designated watch."

"Right," Daniel nodded. "Then, this morning – after breakfast – Sam and I had been working for a couple of hours when Jack told – or rather ordered – us to take a break."

The archaeologist's gaze fell to his hands. "Jack was, ah, starting to get a little bored by this stage."

"Colonel?"

"The storm lasted most of the night, sir," he answered with a casual wave of his hand, causing water drops to land on the table.

"And that relates to your boredom, how, exactly?" Hammond asked warily, knowing all too well the trouble Jack could get himself into if allowed.

"There was nothing to do there," he answered defensively, before he decided to tack on a "sir". "Everything was wet. I couldn't even take a load off because the ground was saturated and just a pile of mud," he grumbled.

"Indeed. O'Neill appeared most annoyed at the planet's weather conditions."

"Dare I ask how you – alleviated – your boredom, colonel? Bearing in mind you were on a mission."

"I was ever the consummate professional, sir."

At a sudden stifled laugh-turned-cough from Sam, the general turned back to Teal'c.

"As Major Carter and Daniel Jackson resumed their work, O'Neill and I began discussing the nature of a certain Tau'ri holiday –"

"It was Teal'c's idea," Jack interrupted.

"– wherein one celebrates their friendship with another human by splashing them with water," Teal'c finished.

Silence filled the room as a bemused, and slightly frustrated Hammond, replayed the Jaffa's final sentence over in his head. "What?"

"Teal'c has a calendar in his quarters, sir," Carter explained.

"Which – by the way – Daniel thought was a good idea to buy," Jack cut in, throwing a glare at his friend.

"It was a present just after Teal'c left Chulak. It was to help him understand some of Earth's customs better!" Daniel replied in exasperation, as Sam drew in a deep breath and closed her eyes.

"What, '365 holidays you never knew existed'?" Jack shot back. "There's probably a good reason why we never knew they existed, Danny Boy."

"Well, you should know after your little demonstration," Daniel answered with a smirk.

 _"Gentlemen!"_ Hammond barked from his seat. "Major, continue. Please," he all but begged.

Sam nodded slowly. "Well, sir, according to Teal'c, today was, ah..."

"National Step In A Puddle And Splash Your Friend Day," Daniel supplied a little too happily.

"Thank you, Daniel," Jack growled.

George glared at the man sitting to his left. "Colonel! You are a decorated Air Force officer. You were also off-world on an alien planet. For your sake – and my sanity – please tell me this isn't going where I think it is."

Jack shifted uncomfortably in his seat as his BDUs stuck to the leather upholstery. "Not exactly, sir."

"Which means?"

"Teal'c was having issues with part of the, uh, holiday's description," Daniel offered.

"I simply enquired as to why one had to jump in a puddle to signify their friendship."

"After a bit of a discussion," Daniel continued carefully. "Jack decided that, ah, it was probably just for – fun."

"Shut up, Daniel."

"I'm just relaying our mission," he defended.

"General," Sam cut in, before her commanding officer had a chance to respond – again. "It's true. Teal'c had never encountered this – tradition – before, and Colonel O'Neill, being the –"

 _"Easy,"_ he warned.

"– _good_ leader that he is," she said with an apologetic grimace in his direction, "offered to show Teal'c how to... jump. In a puddle. And splash your friend. Sir."

Wide eyes flew to Jack in a rage.

"It was only a small puddle, sir, and Teal'c picked the concept up pretty quick," Jack argued quickly before he leaned back in his chair. "He's an astute guy."

"It was a most enlightening and entertaining learning curve, General Hammond."

"That still doesn't explain why you are currently dripping all over my base, Jack."

Straightening, he turned deadly serious and if Hammond didn't know any better he'd swear the man was nervous. "Uh, well, you see –"

"It turned... competitive, sir," Sam answered, her blue eyes twinkling brightly with mirth.

"I beg your pardon, major."

She bit her cheek to stop herself from smiling, and sent Daniel a look of gratitude when he answered on her behalf.

"Teal'c was creating a larger splash than Jack. So, Jack – naturally – began looking for larger puddles."

The general closed his eyes as he tried not to mutter an expletive at the childish antics of his second-in-command.

"There were a line of puddles marking our route back to the gate," Teal'c voiced after a moment. "O'Neill claimed 'shotgun' to the puddles on the right-hand side of the path, and informed me that mine were on the left."

He paused and looked at O'Neill pointedly.

"Things were fine with the first three puddles, sir," Jack started only to stop when movement from the corner of his eye drew his attention. When he glanced to his left, he saw Carter's shoulders shaking and a smile on her lips.

"It wasn't that funny. _Major_ ," he warned.

"Oh, I beg to differ. _Colonel_ ," she giggled.

Daniel also started to chuckle, which turned out to be the proverbial straw.

"Does someone want to get to the point and tell me what the hell happened out there?"

"Jack misjudged his final… target," Daniel answered.

The general frowned. "Misjudged?"

"Indeed,"Teal'c confirmed with a tilt of his head. "O'Neill's puddle was much deeper than he anticipated."

Hammond looked at the man in question and noticed the distinct discomfort – and embarrassment – on his face. And suddenly everything started to click into place. Despite the ridiculousness, not to mention inappropriateness, of his officer's behavior, he felt himself siding with the remaining members of SG-1. He kept his voice neutral, but somehow already knowing the answer, asked: "How much deeper?"

Jack flung his arms out wide in a 'what do you think?' gesture, which only served to draw another bout of laughter from his teammates.

"The colonel jumped into the puddle, sir," Carter answered, her voice wavering as she tried to contain her laughter, "but the hole in the ground was deep. So deep that –"

"The water came up to his shoulders!" Daniel finished with a snort before he doubled over with laughter.

"We managed to pull O'Neill safely from the –" Teal'c paused as he thought over Jack's terminology, "motherfu–"

"Puddle, Teal'c. Just – it was just a puddle," Jack quickly answered as Sam started to choke at the colorful language.

"Jack..." Hammond trailed off, at a loss for words.

"Yes, sir?"

"Is that what happened?"

He grimaced before shifting in his seat. "Yes, sir."

Nodding slowly, the general pursed his lips. "I see."

As the details of the mission had been shared and re-lived, he could now – almost – see the funny side. It didn't mean he was about to let Jack off the hook, however.

"Is there anything you would like to add, colonel?"

Jack opened his mouth to speak, only to snap it shut when Carter lightly nudged his elbow.

"No, sir."

"Alright. Go and get cleaned up. Dismissed," he acquiesced, pushing his chair back from the table. Sam and Jack followed, but the loud squelching sound emanating from the latter sent another round of laughter floating through the room.

"I'd like to have a word with you in my office in thirty minutes, Jack," Hammond said sternly.

He sighed. "Yes, sir."

With that, the general headed to his office, when he heard Jack coolly say, "It'll be fine."

He smirked to himself. "Oh, and colonel?"

"Yes, sir?"

He turned to face the younger man.

"Next time, watch your step. We can't have you creating too much of a splash across the galaxy after all," he chuckled, before he disappeared into his office, leaving three amused members of SG-1 and a very disgruntled Colonel O'Neill behind.


	12. Fashioned Feast

**Author's Note: Written for 'Feast of Fabulous Wild Men Day' on 12 January.**

* * *

"Stop laughing, Sam. It's not funny," Daniel moaned.

She tried, but failed, to contain her amusement, and when her teammate sighed and placed his hands on his hips – his new stance only made her laugh harder. He quickly let his hands fall by his sides when he realized what he looked like.

"I'm – sorry – Daniel," she spluttered.

"It's fine." He frowned. "Well, it's not fine, but it's…" He trailed off with a shrug.

"If it's any consolation," Sam supplied, "You look very –" She waved her arm around in a vague gesture, "– in character."

Seemingly failing in her quest to find the right word, Daniel rolled his eyes and moved to the far side of the tent SG-1 had been delegated for the duration of their stay. The team had arrived on PXV-726 two days previously and received a warm welcome from the locals. Having been involved in trade negotiations since their arrival, tonight marked the conclusion of the initial talks. Essentially, it involved the locals throwing a large feast in the team's honor.

Well, some of the team anyway.

Sam held back another laugh. She was actually looking forward to the evening's celebration. For once, the inhabitants hadn't taken a particular interest in her. Rather, it was the male members of the team who had been put on a pedestal, and the celebration, or _féile_ , as the locals referred to it, was for the guys. It also meant that while Sam could still wear her BDUs, her teammates had to wear more the traditional dress appropriate to the occasion. She bit back a grin as she recalled the official title for the evening's feast.

 _The Feast of Fabulous Wild Men._

Just as she started laughing again, she watched Daniel reluctantly place the hat he had been given on his head. He looked just like a young Indiana Jones – shirtless, and complete with a leather whip. A snort of amusement quickly turned into a cough.

"Don't even –" Daniel warned, and Sam threw her arms up in surrender, but she was stopped from saying anything further when a large shadow fell over them. She looked up and had to swallow hard at the expression on Teal'c's face. She knew it was because he was also unhappy with his clothing choice, but Sam had only seen that expression on her friend's face a couple of times before – and she was suddenly worried about how the night would actually end. She tried not to stare at the leather pants and waistcoat ensemble Teal'c wore, but when her gaze slid to the long leather coat he had on over the outfit, she vaguely thought he looked like Shaft.

"Teal'c! You look – uh – you look – good?"

Met with silence, she cleared her throat uncomfortably. "Umm, where's the colonel?"

 _"The colonel is right here,"_ came the low, dangerous voice from behind the tent's inner partition.

Sam closed her eyes and winced. Oh boy.

Daniel also seemed to pick up on the tone. "Uh, I'm going to wait outside. Teal'c?"

"Indeed, Daniel Jackson."

Sam's eyes widened in disbelief as she watched her two teammates disappear out of the tent to leave her alone with her commanding officer.

"Oh, for cryin' out loud!"

Slowly, Sam turned to the source of the frustrated cry. The colonel was still behind the partition.

"Sir?"

 _"What?!"_

"Are you OK?"

"Just peachy, Carter."

Pursing her lips, she debated whether to continue the conversation, when she heard him sigh.

"Carter?"

"Yes, sir?"

"I need a hand here."

She frowned. "With what? Exactly? Sir."

"My… outfit."

Pulling a face, Sam could feel her cheeks redden. "Do you need me to come back there, sir?"

A heavy silence fell between the two officers before another sigh came from behind the curtain.

"No. I'm coming out. But I swear, Carter, if you so much as smirk…"

He left the sentence unfinished, but Sam heard the warning. "Yes, sir."

Moments later, the colonel emerged from behind the curtain – and anything Sam had planned to say was promptly forgotten as she took in the sight before her. He was wearing a short brown leather-pleated kilt similar to those worn by Roman soldiers… and not much else. Unless you counted whatever it was he was holding in his left hand.

 _"Sir,"_ she squeaked. "You, ah –"

"Save it, Carter," he grumbled and Sam snapped her mouth closed. "Can you help with this or not?" he asked as he held, what looked like a leather strap, up in the air.

She stepped closer and frowned. "Uh, what is it, sir?"

"It's supposed to clip onto this thing," he shrugged and gestured towards the kilt. "And joins onto this… or something," he explained as he held up an ornately decorated collar with leather shoulder pads.

"Ah."

"Yeah."

Sam cleared her throat uncomfortably. She took the strap and quickly found the loop on the band of the kilt and clipped it, but as she did, her fingers brushed against the colonel's lower abdomen. He inhaled sharply and Sam's gaze snapped to his.

"Sorry, sir," she whispered, receiving a slight nod in return.

Next, she took the collar and placed it over his head, then hooked the shoulder pads around it, all the time trying to ignore how the colonel's focus was on her face.

"I look ridiculous, Carter."

The comment made her falter slightly. "No, you don't, sir."

Even as the words left her lips, she grimaced, and the look she received in return only served to prove that it was a stupid comment.

"Well, I mean it's not your… usual attire, but it could be worse."

"How's that?"

"Have you seen Daniel's outfit?"

Jack met her smirk and tried not to fidget as she reached around him to hook the strap over his shoulder.

"I'm getting a draft in this thing," he commented after a few moments and Sam couldn't help but laugh.

"Don't worry, I'll make sure you're not wearing it for long."

She caught her commanding officer's shocked, then suspiciously smug, expression and felt herself blush.

"Uh, I just meant – the feast – it's – it's only for a few hours. Sir."

"Yeah, about that," Jack answered as he tried – and failed miserably – to hide his amusement at her ramble. "What is this 'fairy' thing, they keep talking about?"

"It's _féile_ , sir," she automatically corrected. "And it's just a feast."

"Just a feast? So, no sacrificial offerings in the form of an Air Force Colonel?"

This time, Sam couldn't hide her chuckle. "No, sir. You're safe."

He nodded, his gaze darting back and forth around the tent.

"I hate this stuff."

"Hmm?" Sam answered idly as she worked to fasten and buckle the remainder of his outfit.

 _"This,"_ he repeated as he gestured to his clothes.

Sam glanced up and if she looked closer, she'd swear he was pouting. She suddenly had a flashback to one of the team's very first missions and grinned.

"Oh, I don't know, sir."

With renewed focus, she fastened the final buckle and ran her hands along the shoulder pads, smoothing out any invisible creases. Without stepping back, she met his gaze.

"It kind of works for me."

" _Carter?_ "

"Uh... Jack? Sam? Is it safe to come in?"

The two officers shared a look and Sam put a little distance between them. "Yeah, Daniel."

Almost immediately, the archaeologist's head emerged between a gap in the tent flap. "They're waiting for us. The celebration is about to begin."

He disappeared and Jack groaned when he heard music in the distance.

"Let's get this over with," he mumbled as he tugged at his kilt.

Sam gave him a sympathetic smile and gestured towards the entrance of the tent. "After you, sir."

She hung back as the colonel slowly made his way to where their teammates waited outside. She took in his broad shoulders and the way the muscles on his back flexed and rippled as he walked, and then her gaze fell lower, to the kilt which just about covered his ass and she grinned.

Yes, something told her she was going to enjoy tonight's celebrations.


	13. Dream A Little Dream Of Me

**Author's Note: Written for today's holiday, 'Make Your Dream Come True Day'. Set during season 4 – you'll know when.**

* * *

Jack stands on the deck, his hands resting on the railing as he observes the landscape before him. It's a cliché, but for once, he doesn't really care. From the white sandy beach and crystal-clear ocean, to the palm trees which line the sandy expanse and the soft crashing of the waves as they creep closer towards his position.

Then, there's the accommodation. It is essentially a luxury beach hut, wooden in structure with a thatched roof. It's situated along the periphery of the soft sand, and a large set of sliding glass doors open onto the deck. The deck also provides the perfect vantage point for the most breathtaking views as he watches the sun set over the horizon, throwing the sky into a myriad of reds, oranges and pinks.

It's paradise, he thinks.

Straightening, he glances to his left and smiles softly when he sees Carter is just as entranced with nature's changing canvas, and before he realizes what he's doing, he's murmured 'C'mere' and she is standing in his arms, her back flush against his chest as they watch the sun finally disappear, allowing thousands of stars to burst forward and light up the black background in the most spectacular way.

They stand in contented silence, observing the constellations for another ten minutes before Sam slowly pulls away.

"I'm going to call it a night," she whispers with a small smile and Jack swallows hard as he watches her disappear into the darkened hut. He lets a few minutes go by, and after casting one final look around, follows her inside.

He closes the shutters on the glass doors and the room is thrown into almost darkness. Its only light source comes from the vintage oil lanterns placed throughout the room, giving the space a warm, orange glow. A light breeze drifts through the slits in the shutters, making the thin, silk drapes sway in random movements.

He sits on the edge of the bed and watches the material flutter and he suddenly feels like it's mirroring his own current emotional state. Before he has a chance to think too long about what emotions those actually are, he turns to see Sam step out of what is a luxury en suite and his heart stops. She's changed out of her previous attire and is now wearing what Jack initially assumes to be pajamas – but it leaves very little to the imagination. It's a deep purple, silk chemise and there's a delicate lace trim that runs along the top and bottom of the dress as well as its plunging neckline. As Jack drags his eyes down Sam's body, he inhales sharply when he discovers the material stops mid-thigh, providing him with an excellent view of Carter's long legs. He forces his gaze back up and notes how the chemise clings and accentuates every perfect curve on her body. As she makes her way towards the bed – and him – he feels his blood rush south.

"Carter," he breaths.

Even in the throes of the dark room, he can see her blushing, moments before her blue eyes widen and twinkle mischievously and there's a determined set to her shoulders as she finally comes to a stop before him.

"Sir," she replies quietly, but she's calm. Confident.

"Whatcha doin'?"

Smiling seductively, she leans on the edge of the bed, before moving to straddle him and his hands instinctively come to rest on her hips. He squeezes lightly as he feels his heart start to race.

 _"Sam."_

But she shakes her head. "Ssh. No talking."

With that, she inches forward agonizingly slow for Jack, only stopping when her lips are mere millimeters from his. Her breath tickles his lips, causing him to groan before he pulls Sam in for a searing kiss...

Jack awakes with a start and frowns. He replays his dream over in his mind but none of it makes sense. _Well, a part of it did_ , he grins. It's just the 'Carter' and 'Sir' part he's having trouble with.

He closes his eyes and starts to go through the dream again when movement from his left has him on alert. He cracks open an eye and immediately relaxes when he locates the source of the late-night disturbance. Shifting slightly, he pulls the blonde woman closer to his chest and places a soft kiss in her hair. He receives a contented hum in return.

"Sorry. I didn't mean to wake you," he whispers.

She turns in his arms and gazes up at him.

"You didn't," she pauses, her attention falling to his chest. "I couldn't sleep. I was thinking about you."

His eyes widened momentarily in surprise, before a huge grin threatens to split his face.

"Oh, yeah?" he asks, chuckling lightly when he receives a playful slap to the chest. He catches the offending hand and drops a kiss to her knuckles before tugging her closer.

He waits until she meets his eyes, and the Jack leans in to place another feather-light kiss, this time on her lips.

"I love you, Thera," he whispers.

Her eyes glisten with unshed tears. "I love you too, Jonah," she replies, before rewarding him with one of those megawatt smiles he loves to see. The one he knows is just for him.

He feels his heart swell at her admission and finds himself falling even more in love with the woman currently lying in his arms. As he continues to gaze into her eyes, he flashes back to his dream and briefly thinks about asking her if she knows what the terms 'Carter' and 'Sir' mean. But when he feels her hands sneak around his neck, he decides it can wait until the morning.

For now, as he leans in to take her breath away once more, he's more than content to fulfil his dream's desires.

* * *

 **Please don't hate me for that plot twist!**


	14. Ridding The Nest

**Author's Note: Written for today's celebration, 'Organize Your Home Day'. Set post-series.**

* * *

Jack's eyes snapped open and his gaze darted briefly around the darkened room as he tried to figure out what had woken him. Moments later, he heard a soft thud followed by a muffled curse. He rolled onto his back and when he looked to his right, he saw the other side of the bed was empty and sighed. He lifted his head from the pillow and winced as the bright red LED numbers shone at him, cruelly reading 02:35, from the bedside unit. He growled in frustration and let his head fall back to the pillow.

It took a few minutes before he decided he wasn't going to sleep again any time soon, so he leaned down to grab his t-shirt and sweats from their crumpled state on the floor and slowly made his way out of the bedroom. He'd only taken one step into the hall when he heard another thud. He cocked his head to the side and pursed his lips before he made his way closer and stopped just outside the room. Slowly, he placed his hand on the handle and when he pushed open the door he froze at the sight that greeted him. He glanced around his office and frowned before he ran a hand across his face.

"Carter! What the hell?"

He winced as soon as the words left his mouth. They were harsher than he intended and he felt a pang of guilt as Sam straightened and swung around to face him in surprise – before she swayed dangerously on her feet. He jumped forward, his hands landing firmly on her hips, while Sam's instinctively rested on his upper arms. He watched her closely as she kept her eyes closed.

"You OK?" he asked softly.

Sam nodded. When she opened her eyes, she found him staring at her, a brow raised in disbelief. She offered him a small smile.

"I'm fine, really."

His gaze drifted over Carter's shoulder for a few seconds and when he caught her with an embarrassed look on her face, he resisted the urge to grin.

"Whatcha doin'?"

"Nothing."

Jack's eyebrows shot up. "Nothing," he repeated slowly. Then why, pray tell, am I awake at 0240 on a Saturday morning? People are usually _sleeping_ at this time, Sam."

She shrugged. "I couldn't sleep."

His gaze travelled around the room again. "So, you decided to rearrange the house?"

He let his hands fall from Sam's hips as she turned away from him and over to the office chair.

"Not the entire house," she said defensively. "Just –" She shrugged as she gestured vaguely to the room before sitting in Jack's leather chair, idly picked up a cloth and started to dust the surface of the desk.

"Sam –"

Jack stopped abruptly as he studied his office again. His desk, which had been against the wall on the left-hand side was now located on the far corner at the other side of the room. The bookshelf, which had been in the far corner, was now against the wall on the right as you entered the office, and a small wooden storage unit was now plonked unceremoniously in the center of the space, along with a few other items and a boxful of his paperwork. There was also a bucket of soapy water, a mop and various cleaning materials on any available surface.

"Is that wise?" he asked gently as he stepped over the bucket.

"What?"

" _This_ ," he waved, gesturing to his heavily pregnant wife and then the mess of his office.

Sam stared at him. "Well, when was the last time you tidied in here?"

She crossed her arms across her chest and glared at Jack, daring him to answer. He, in turn, scratched his temple as he tried to contain his amusement at Sam's sudden defensive stance.

"Last week," he finally answered, mirroring her position.

She rolled her eyes and went back to the task at hand. "It needed cleaned."

"At 0240. On a Saturday morning."

"Yes."

Jack nodded, and then stopped in his tracks as he studied the woman in front of him. A grin tugged at the corner of his mouth. "Samantha, are you _nesting?_ "

Her head snapped up. " _No!_ No. I mean..." She set down the cloth and looked around. "Oh, my god."

Before she could say anything more, she winced and rested a hand on her hip, before placing the other on the small of her back. Jack's amusement faded and he was by her side in an instant, his right hand rubbing soft, slow circles on her back.

"You want to sit down?"

She nodded and Jack guided her to the chair. "You know, you really shouldn't be doing this," he said quietly.

"I know," she sighed. It's just – I _needed_ to do it."

"Sara was the same. I mean, with the nesting thing," he cleared his throat awkwardly. "She – ah – I came home from a mission to find our couch in the back yard. She had repainted the entire house and cleaned everything while I was away... Charlie was born shortly afterwards," he finished with a soft smile.

She squeezed his hand affectionately. "Does that mean we should be prepared?"

"You're always prepared, Sam," he said, dropping a kiss to her lips. "Besides, you've still got a few weeks to go. It's not as if the baby is going to arrive right now."

"I know. I guess I'm just nervous," she admitted as her gaze fell to her hands.

"Me too," Jack whispered. He placed another kiss to the top of Sam's head. "C'mon, back to bed."

He helped Sam to her feet, his hand never leaving her back. She was just about to make a move towards the door when she grimaced and one of her hands flew to her stomach. Jack, meanwhile, had to bite back a curse as Sam's other hand grabbed onto his arm, her fingers digging in hard.

" _Ow!_ Oh. Uh, Jack?"

A look of panic flashed in his eyes and he pulled a face. "Was that a –"

She nodded abruptly. "Yes, I think so."

This time it was Jack's grip that tightened. "Crap." **  
**


	15. Headstrong

**Author's Note:** **For today's celebration, 'Hat Day'.** **Set during season 7 'Heroes'.**

* * *

She doesn't even realize she has it until she leans forward and it falls out from underneath her jacket.

She reaches to pick it up from the floor, but the movement upsets the current delicate balance of her inner ear. The knock she took to the side of the head is starting to make itself known and the world starts spinning and she leans against the wall, wanting it to stop.

She could also do without the nausea and muffled hearing so she tries to block it out. Block all of it out, and she idly wonders if there is some way she can manipulate the laws of physics once more so they can all go back in time to stop this from even happening. But she knows they can't, so she keeps her eyes closed and takes a deep breath instead.

The dizziness slowly recedes and makes way for memories just as vivid and it makes her ache in a way the battle she's just come through doesn't. It's an ache she only associates with _him_. One that is always constant, yet changing.

For as long as she's known him, it's been there. Sometimes it feels like a dull pain that starts in one part of her body and slowly seeps out into each and every crevice it can find. Then, there are the times when it is more like an acute pain; one where the epicenter is located near her heart or chest and it makes it difficult to breathe or move or do anything.

Over the years, she thinks she has learned to cope with the ache – really, she has – which is probably just as well, because she sure as hell hasn't been allowed the cure and she knows it's because the ache is one that can only be satiated by means of throwing herself at him and letting him hold her and touch her and soothe her until the pain disappears. Only it isn't allowed, so she suffers. And she'll continue to suffer until it's too late.

Like today. Maybe. She doesn't know, but the smell of blood and scorched earth and burning flesh tells her enough. The way the Alkesh moved overhead, or how an explosion to her left caught her off-balance, or when the colonel fell to the ground and smoke emanated from his chest and his cap lay discarded by his head.

It's all too much and the ache returns harder than before.

She opens her eyes and gasps for air as she clings onto something – _anything_ – to help her focus and keep this side of conscious. Material folds around her fingers as she tightens her grip on the green ball cap in her hand. It takes a while, but the spots in her vision start to fade and the high-pitched ringing lessens to an annoying hum.

She continues to study the cap. It's well-worn and when she lifts it to her nose, she discovers it's still warm and smells of him. It brings a little comfort, but not enough. Nothing will until she can see him and touch him, to see his chest rise and fall with each breath he takes – and how each breath will tickle her neck if she was to lean in just a little too close.

She banishes the thought as quickly as it appears and instead lets her fingers reverently trace the peak of his hat. It's rugged and strong and resilient. Just like him. The thought gives her the stability she needs.

She folds the cap in half, just like he has a hundred times before, and tucks it safely back inside her jacket. Because for now, she decides it is enough to ease the ache. **  
**


	16. Not For Nothing

**Author's Note: This fic – again – didn't really go the way I envisaged… written for today's celebration, 'Nothing Day'.**

 **Set during the week between Nemesis and Small Victories, when Sam, Jack and Teal'c are stranded on P4X-234.**

* * *

She feels the colonel's presence behind her long before his shadow falls over her. Her eyes are closed but she knows he's watching her, studying her, a light grin shaping his lips.

"Carter," he finally says. "Whatcha doin'?"

She smiles in response. "Nothing."

"Nothing," he repeats, and even though her eyes remain closed she hears him moving around, drawing ever closer. She's lying on the warm, soft grass, a light breeze taking the heat out of the sunshine on her skin which has been stained a shade of light pink. She hears his knees pop as he sits on the ground beside her but she doesn't move from her position. She's comfortable and relaxed and content.

"Are you having fun?"

Her smile widens. "As a matter of fact, sir, I am."

It's the truth. When she, the colonel and Teal'c realized they were going to be stranded on P4X-234 for a few days until the SGC got the second gate online, Sam initially had reservations about what she would do during that time, but she quickly managed to get over those uncertainties and just… take it easy.

"Huh."

She cracks open an eye and turns her head a fraction to look up at him. He's sitting with his elbows resting on his knees, his hands restless as he twists and turns a long blade of grass between his fingers. Sam forces her gaze back to the side of his face that she can see.

"What?"

He turns his head and looks down at her, a warmth in his eyes that makes her breath catch. "Never thought I'd see the day when Samantha Carter has fun – doing absolutely nothing."

He grins then, and despite herself, Sam feels herself blush, so she closes her eyes again and turns her face towards the sky, but she knows he can still see the tinge on her cheeks and the smile that he's caused.

"Believe it or not, I do know how to have fun, colonel."

"Ah, but does it always involve doohickeys or something science-related?"

She shrugs nonchalantly. "Not always."

"Really?"

She feels him straighten slightly beside her and she chuckles at the doubt that laces his question so she pulls herself into a sitting position, her hands pressing into the ground behind her as she leans back.

"Yes, sir. _Really._ "

"Like what?" The doubt in his voice has been replaced by curiosity.

"I have a motorcycle."

"I – you – _what?_ "

She treats him to a fully-fledged grin. "Yes, sir. A 1940 Indian."

A low appreciative whistle escapes Jack's lips. "I always knew you were a speed demon."

She laughs at his statement. "I don't get a lot of free time to take her out on the road," she admits, missing the look of adoration that's now on her commanding officer's face. "But it's fun when I do."

"You've been holding out on me, Carter."

"I'm sorry, sir." But they both know her apology isn't genuine because there's nothing to apologize for. "Next time we have a team night, I'll take you for a spin."

He chuckles. "I'm going to hold you to that offer."

They've fallen into a comfortable silence when Jack finally nudges her knee with his. "So, you've got a sweet ride, but what else does my major get up to for fun?"

"Umm," she hesitates. "I try and spend time with Cassie. That's always fun… but that's about it." She feels him watching her and she grimaces. "I honestly don't have a lot of time for 'fun', sir."

"You could if you left the base every once in a while."

She huffs out a breath at the turn in conversation. She knows that he's right and she appreciates that he is just looking out for her, but she honestly is happy loitering around the base on her downtime or throwing herself into a new science project.

"What about you, sir?"

"Hmm?"

"What do you classify as 'fun'?"

"My cabin in Minnesota."

She's taken aback by the immediacy of his answer and she thinks he's surprised himself too, because he quickly shrugs and adds, "I don't get up there as much as I'd like. But it's fun when I do."

"And you talk about me!"

"Hey! At least I leave the base and go home most nights."

There's no anger in his retort, and he nudges Sam's knee again when she rolls her eyes.

"So, aside from fishing," she hedges. "What makes your cabin so enjoyable?"

Sam notices how he gets this distant look in his eye, almost as if he's reminiscing over the good memories he's made in Minnesota, but he remains quiet for so long, she isn't quite sure if he even remembers she's there.

"There's a few walks nearby, but it's not about trying to find things to do," he explains as he straightens his legs and leans back on his hands, the tip of his fingers just millimeters from hers. "It's just about getting away from… everything."

"Getting back to nature?"

"Yeah," he nods. "There's no pesky phone calls asking us to save the world, there's no bad guys wanting to kill us. There's no rules and regulations to live by."

He utters the final words so quietly, Sam almost misses them. But she doesn't, and the only response her brain manages to formulate is, "Oh."

The colonel lifts a shoulder in an attempt at a shrug, but it doesn't ease the tension that's settled.

"Can I ask you a question, sir?"

"Sure."

"Why –" She stops abruptly. She wants to ask why he asked _her_ to join him this time, but instead she settles for, "It's nothing."

Jack raises a brow. "It isn't nothing, Sam. It's clearly something."

"Should it be anything?" she fires back.

"Do you want it to be?"

Her eyes snap to his, but his expression is blank and she wants to laugh and cry and yell in frustration all at once over how he can hide his emotions away so easily.

She hesitates over her answer and she reckons her indecision shows on her face too because then his eyes soften, giving her just the smallest glimpse of how he really feels underneath his supposed calm exterior. It fills her with excitement, and fear, and curiosity.

"Do _you_ want it to be?"

She hates herself for throwing his question back at him, but he isn't annoyed or disappointed. He just flashes a self-effacing smile and glances at her out of the corner of his eye.

"Do you really need to ask? I'm a simple man, Carter."

The implications of his statement hit her hard and she inhales sharply, her mind spinning at what he _hasn't_ said as opposed to what he has.

"Jack?"

His head whips round at the sound of his name falling from her lips and only for the seriousness of the moment, Sam resists the urge to laugh at the look of shock on his face, but he quickly masks the feeling and a smug grin appears.

 _"Samantha?"_ he drawls and she suddenly feels like fireworks have been set off inside chest.

"Would I like the cabin?"

He regards her carefully for a moment before he looks away, the faintest glimmer of amusement on his face. "You betcha."

"Did you have any plans – for this occasion?"

She feels him tense beside her for just a split second as his gaze focuses on the still lake in front of them. "Yeah, I did."

Suddenly, Sam feels guilty for turning down his invitation. To be honest, a part of her didn't believe his invite was genuine – that he didn't really want her to join him at his cabin and he'd only offered to be polite. But now she realizes she was wrong.

Which throws up the other conundrum she's wrestled with ever since the morning he'd dropped by her lab. The fact that a part of her really _did_ want to go to Minnesota with him, but decided it would be safer if she stayed at home, hundreds of miles away, where duty and honor ruled.

"I wanted to say yes," she says suddenly and his attention shifts to her again, his eyes roaming her face.

"I know," he eventually murmurs.

"I just – it's not –" she stops and sighs in frustration.

"It's not for nothing," he offers quietly, as if reading her mind.

"Yeah," she whispers.

Silently, the colonel curls his fingers into the grass, before flexing them and letting them brush over Sam's. She doesn't tense or pull away at the contact and she watches as he deftly twists his wrist so his fingers capture hers. He gives them a light squeeze.

"One day, Sam," he promises. "One day."

She gives his fingers a light squeeze in return and smiles. "Sounds like fun."

* * *

 **I just wanted to take the opportunity to thank you again for those of you reading these fics, leaving reviews, and/or adding the series to your favorites list. It encourages me to keep going, thank you.**


	17. Just The Way You Are

**Author's Note: Set sometime during season 8**

* * *

He hears the details that Carter leaves out of SG-1's post-mission briefing from Daniel.

And he's angry. Not necessarily with Sam, but with the people the team encountered on their last mission to PCC-317.

Or, more specifically, their leader – Molorn. A tyrant, bully and all-round male chauvinist.

Jack's jaw tightens. It always angers him when his people encounter a planet run in such an archaic and misogynistic way, but he finds it even more difficult now because he isn't alongside his team anymore to support them on such occasions.

Or, more specifically, he isn't with Sam.

It's not that Sam is unable to defend herself – far from it – but even though she puts on a brave face and tries to carry on with the mission as usual, Jack knows that the disapproval, the doubt, that those men cast on her abilities – physical or otherwise – hurts her and makes her start to doubt herself.

And that's unacceptable to him.

He makes his way towards the gym and soon the steady pounding of punches against a heavy bag reach his ears and he winces. Carter's mad.

Which is completely understandable – because he's also mad as hell – but he's trying to keep his feelings in check because he needs Sam to see that everything is okay.

Or, more specifically, he needs Sam to see that _she_ is okay.

He pushes open the door and spots her immediately, in the far corner and beating the absolute crap out of the punch bag. He briefly considers his options before he makes his way towards her.

"Carter."

Her rhythm doesn't falter as she answers. "Yes, sir?"

"I thought I put SG-1 on some downtime."

"I'm fine, sir."

"Carter –"

"I said I'm _fine._ "

Jack sighs, but decides not to point out her insubordination. "Your reaction tells me different."

"I just need to blow off some steam, General."

He glances around the room and shoves his hands into his pockets. "Daniel told me."

This time her rhythm does falter, her left jab going just wide of its target and she has to hook onto the bag with her other gloved hand to stop herself from falling.

"He shouldn't have said anything," is all she offers as she tries to catch her breath.

"He was right to tell me."

When Sam just stares at him, he shrugs. "You know me, Carter. I'm pretty lenient when it comes to briefings and mission reports. But not over things like this – you know that."

She sighs.

"Why didn't you tell me?"

"I wasn't in any danger, sir," she says. "They just didn't look too favorably on women."

He gives her a calculating look, because he doesn't buy her excuse any more than Sam does herself. However, she refuses to expand on her reasoning and instead turns back to the punch bag, so he presses his lips together and finds his fingers drumming against his thigh in time with the punches.

"Carter," he pauses. "Just stop for a sec."

He shifts his stance slightly so he can see her better, and he waits until she halts in her abuse of the bag and meets his gaze.

"Moron –"

"Molorn," she grinds out.

"Yeah, him. He and his followers are idiots," he says. "But none of us see you the way they do."

"It doesn't matter," she mutters.

"It matters to me."

Sam's shoulders sag a little then, her gaze trained on the ground. "I don't know why it's bothering me so much today."

He goes to speak, only for Sam to continue, louder this time. "I mean, I should be used to it by now –"

"You should never have to 'get used to it', Carter," he interrupts hotly and when she risks a glance in his direction, Jack sighs. "Because the kind of attitude he has shouldn't even exist."

"He said I was –"

She stops abruptly before she repeats the words Molorn used to describe her, but she doesn't need to tell him, because he already knows. Daniel's relayed message haunts him, but it is the look of pure hurt and despair in the eyes of the woman standing before him that fills him with an almost overwhelming urge to dial the gate right back to PCC-317 and seek his own revenge.

He takes a step closer. "Look, Sam, I hate this just as much as you, but –"

She huffs out a breath at his words, so he finds himself taking another step closer and lets his hands cup the underside of her boxing gloves. Even through the thick material, he swears he can feel her fingers twitch against his.

"You're so much more than what they see."

"They saw me as 'unaesthetically pleasing', amongst other things."

"And I've said it already – he's an idiot."

Sam shakes her head. "I couldn't make a difference. Those women –"

She closes her eyes and Jack knows she's recalling the way Molorn treated the females within his tribe. And he also knows they've reached the root of why the situation is getting to her. She feels like she's failed the women back on that planet.

"Never forget the differences you've already made, Carter."

"Sir?"

"So, this mission didn't go to plan. That's just the way things are sometimes, but think back to when you first joined SG-1. You provided Nya with freedom and introduced equality to her world. And Cassie? She's sees you as a soldier, a friend, and as family. You're good with her and she adores you. And then there's Lieutenant Hailey."

"What about her, sir?"

"Everyone else has given up on her, but you took an interest and gave her the opportunity to see what she could achieve if she put her mind to it. You fought for her and today she's one of the best officers the SGC has. It's because of you and the belief you've shown in her."

He notices Sam's taken aback by his words, and an illicit thrill runs through him as she starts to turn a deep shade of red. His praise makes her uncomfortable, so he decides he has absolutely nothing to lose at this stage, as they're the only two people in the room and he knows their conversation will stay that way.

"And then there's me."

She frowns. "You?"

"Yeah. You make me a better person."

"Oh," she hesitates and Jack guesses at what's coming. "Can I ask why, sir?"

He shrugs, but the intensity in his eyes belies his nonchalant stance.

"Men themselves have wondered what they see in me," he murmurs. "They try so much, but they can't touch my inner mystery."

He holds Sam's gaze as she replays the words he read years ago in a poem, and she has a look on her face as if she's trying to solve one of her science experiments which only adds to the mystery and beauty that surrounds her.

"I don't understand."

"You're Carter," he answers simply, as if it explains everything, because to him it does. "You're amazing, Sam. Don't let people like Molorn get inside your head."

The mention of Molorn's name sends a flash of fire through her eyes, and Jack tries not to smile as sees her anger surge again as she wrestles with what he's just told her compared to the comments the leader of '317 had voiced, so he knows he's starting to get through to her and break through the doubt. But he also knows that she needs to release the frustration that's been building inside her, so he silently removes his BDU jacket and tosses it onto a nearby chair. He steps up to the opposite side of the punch bag and places a hand on either side. With a nod in Sam's direction, he braces himself as she grins right before she rolls her shoulders and starts to land punch after punch.

With each cracking sound the glove makes as it hits against the bag, Jack thinks of another word he could use to describe Sam. He's already decided on intelligent, courageous, funny and beautiful. But he soon realizes that it isn't enough, because everything about her just comes together and in his eyes, she's perfect.

So, he tells her.

"It's in the reach of your arms, the span of your hips. The stride of your step, the curl of your lips."

 _Crack._

"It's the fire in your eyes, and the flash of your teeth. The swing in your waist, and the joy in your feet."  
 _  
_ _Crack._

"It's in the arch of your back, the sun of your smile. The ride of your breasts, the grace of your style."

 _Crack._

"It's in the click of your heels, the bend of your hair. The palm of your hand, the need of your care."

 _Crack._

"Now you understand just why your head's not bowed. You don't shout or jump about or have to talk real loud."

 _Crack._

"When I see you passing it ought to make me proud."

 _Crack._

Sam's focus finally falters and she misses the bag, stumbling forward, but Jack's there, his hands on her biceps as he keeps her upright. He meets her gaze and smiles softly.

"'Cause you're a woman, phenomenally," he finishes, his eyes full of reverence as he barely whispers his final words. "Phenomenal woman, that's you, Sam."

* * *

 **Author's Note:** **Firstly, the "men themselves have wondered what they see in me," line and the last section of Jack's dialogue is from Maya Angelou's 'Phenomenal Woman' – one of my favorite pieces of work.**

 **Secondly, I decided to take a risk with today's choice of holiday and it turned out to be so difficult to write (honestly, it's almost reduced me to tears because I couldn't get it to work the way I wanted it to and I've so much doubt surrounding it).**

 **I had three holidays to choose from – Kid Inventors' Day, Ditch New Year's Resolutions Day, and Women's Healthy Weight Day – and I went for the third option. I know the story doesn't address Sam's weight or anything, but when I read into the holiday, the purpose of it is simply an occasion for female empowerment and for us to be happy with who we are and how we look and what we are capable of achieving, no matter what society tries to make us think. So, then I thought about the times Sam has fought for women's rights and supported other women throughout the show. But what if there were times when other people's doubts, made her doubt herself? And I like to think Jack would be there to help her get through those moments.**


	18. What's The Word?

**Author's Note: Written for today's holiday, "Thesaurus Day". Missing scene for season 2 'A Matter of Time'.**

* * *

The colonel whistles as he swipes his access card and waits for the door to Daniel's lab to open, but when he steps inside, the unintelligible tune dies on his lips when he sees Teal'c sitting at the bench.

"Teal'c."

"O'Neill," he responds, his attention not wavering from whatever it is he's reading.

"Everything OK?"

"Indeed," he answers, finally lifting his gaze to look at him. "Daniel Jackson has been allowing me access to his journals so that I can learn more about the history of your planet."

He nods. "Ah, and I'm guessing it's easier to do that when Daniel isn't here to provide an in-person commentary?"

Teal'c cants his head slightly as he considers the question. "Indeed."

Jack smirks as he turns his attention to the shelves that line Daniel's lab – and the reason he's really there.

"Are you looking for something in particular, O'Neill?"

"I'm after one of Danny's books," he shrugs. "And I'd rather he didn't know about it."

"Why?"

"Because he'd probably refuse to let me take it in the first place."

"I see."

"But Daniel's also the only person I know on the base who has a copy."

"Is it of great significance to you?"

Jack shifts uncomfortably.

"Kind of." He glances over at his teammate and sighs. "Apparently referring to the Goa'uld as assholes in your mission report is frowned upon. The other terms I know are even less tasteful, so Hammond suggested I look through a thesaurus. There's one here somewhere."

It's a half-truth. Hammond's already made him re-write three of his reports for using what he referred to as "choice language", but it isn't the real reason as to why he needs –

"What is a thesaurus?"

Jack freezes at the question and suddenly wishes Daniel was around. "Uh," he grimaces as he tries to figure out how to answer. "It's a book – a big book – that, uh, has lots of words in it and –"

He sees Teal'c's eyebrow rise in spectacular fashion and sighs. "Hang on," he mumbles. He quickly turns back to the shelf and scans the various titles until he finds the one he wants. When he sets it down on the bench, he lets the book fall open at a page.

"Pick a word, Teal'c."

When the Jaffa just stares at him in confusion, he gestures to the thesaurus. "Trust me."

He waits patiently – a feat in itself – as his teammate takes his time, before his finger lands on the page. Jack leans over his shoulder and smiles.

 _Futile._

"OK. So, you see all of the words listed alongside?"

"I do."

"Well, they all have the same – or a similar – meaning as futile. If you wanted, you could use any of those words in a sentence, in its place."

Teal'c considers his explanation for a moment, before he pushes the book away.

"And what is the purpose of such an activity?"

Jack frowns. He's pretty sure he's just told him the purpose. "It's –"

"Would the Tau'ri not be better served if they spoke the words they intended to say, rather than search for another that means exactly the same?"

"Uh, you know, that's a great question," he offers lamely. "And one that I'm sure Daniel would love to answer when he –" He stops abruptly when he sees a glint in his friend's eye. "Teal'c?" he asks slowly. "Was that a joke?"

"It would appear my attempt to be humorous was not entirely… _futile_ , O'Neill."

The hardened military officer can't help but grin.

* * *

By the time he gets back to his office, he is almost out of enthusiasm for his task, but he decides to see it through for an hour before he grabs a late lunch. Sitting down at his desk, he pulls open a drawer and finds the notepad he'd scribbled a list of words onto earlier.

"Here goes nothing," he mutters as he opens up the thesaurus.

But it takes just twenty minutes before he has a desire to throw something. He sighs in frustration and crosses out the final word on his list. All in all, he hasn't been able to find a single one of Carter's technobabble terms in the thesaurus, so – despite his attempts to research and understand what his captain actually talks about on a daily basis – he still hasn't the faintest idea.

He closes the book with more force than it strictly needs and sighs once again.

There's only one thing for it, he realizes.

He takes the stairs two at a time to the briefing room and smiles when he finds her there, lost in thought as she stares down at the Stargate below.  
 **  
**"Carter!"

He throws her a lopsided smile when she spins around to face him, but then his attention drifts to Lieutenant Simmons who is sitting behind the aide desk in the corner of the room and he hesitates.

He's heard the rumors around base that the guy has a crush on Captain Carter – a crush that doesn't appear to be reciprocated – and for reasons he _refuses_ to entertain, the knowledge nevertheless makes Jack happy.

"Colonel, is everything OK?"

He nods, but his facial expression must tell her something different, because she frowns slightly, right before she asks, "Are you sure, sir?"

"Actually, Carter, do you have a moment?"

Her eyes widen slightly and Jack finds himself staring at how blue they are in the dim lighting of their surroundings.

"Of course, sir."

Her voice pulls him from his thoughts and he goes to speak, but suddenly remembers that they aren't alone and he doesn't want Simmons to overhear the conversation. It's not that he feels threatened by the younger officer, but – again for reasons he avoids delving into any further – he decides he'd just rather not give the guy any advantage whatsoever when it comes to Carter.

Jack purses his lips and glances around. He sees Hammond's office is empty, so he places a hand on Sam's upper arm and guides her in that direction. There's a questioning look on her face when they stop in front of the star map and when she pulls the notepad she's been holding closer to her chest, as if it's going to protect her from whatever's going to come out of his mouth, he can't help but smile.

He risks a final glance over at Simmons before he leans towards Sam.

"Look, I know I should know this by now and I swear, it'll be the last time I ask," he whispers. "These wormholes we go through… they're not always there, right?"


	19. Snap, Bubbles And Pop

**Author's Note: Sorry this is posted slightly late! Written for 'National Popcorn Day' on 19 January. Episode tag for season 7 'Grace'.**

* * *

She really isn't hungry, but the guys are so enthusiastic about the fact that she's finally been cleared to leave the infirmary and go home, that she feels bad about refusing the food.

So, she manages just two bites of her cake and then settles for pushing the rest around on her plate.

She appreciates Daniel and Teal'c for staying true to their word and supplying cake – even if it was the colonel's idea – for their first team night since her little stint on the Prometheus, and she's thankful that her commanding officer has also offered his home for the get-together. It's nice because it's been a while since they've had an opportunity like this to relax for an evening, but she's tired and still recovering from her injuries. As if on cue, her headache starts to return and she rubs a hand over her temple, willing it away. Moments later, the plate she was holding has disappeared and is replaced with a glass of water and two painkillers. She takes them without question, missing the colonel's concerned expression. It's only after she's swallowed the tablets she realizes what she's done and she glances up at him.

"You were overdue your meds," he shrugs before he sits down beside her again on the couch.

"Thank you, sir," she mumbles, setting the glass on the coffee table.

She turns her attention back to the television, but can't focus on the characters or the plot – she doesn't even know what the movie is – but if she stares at the screen for long enough, she hopes it means the man sitting to her right will stop watching her out of the corner of his eye.

They've all been watching her, but Daniel and Teal'c – who have commandeered an armchair each – now at least seem preoccupied with the movie.

She tells herself that she really does appreciate their concern, but she's having trouble separating what's real and what isn't from her stranding and their concern now feels more suffocating than comforting. But she also isn't able to tell them to stop because to do so would mean she'd have to admit that she left the whole hallucination situation out of her mission report.

A sigh escapes and she feels the colonel's attention drift towards her, so she pulls her knees up to her chest and angles them slightly so she can tuck her feet underneath, before she settles against the cushions in an effort to look like she's relaxed.

She's anything but relaxed and before she knows it, her thoughts have drifted back to the Prometheus, and the conversations – if she can call it that – that took place. She is struggling to understand what it all means, never mind where the little girl comes into the whole equation.

Suddenly, in Sam's peripheral vision, a firefight erupts on the screen and the resulting explosions and sparks and flashing lights are too bright and harsh against the darkness of the den and she feels like she's on board the ship.

She finds it hard to breathe, the oxygen being pulled from her lungs and the air around her, and her head is spinning. But whether it's the adrenaline, or belief, or just absolute fear, she is overcome with the need to fight. To stay conscious and alive and get back home. The thought snaps the final tendril she's been clinging onto and it spurs her into action. She jumps off the couch and without warning, the images freeze and a light appears. It makes her wince and then she's in darkness again. The only sound she can hear is the roaring in her ears, while her heart feels like it is about to burst out of her chest.

"Carter?"

The voice is soft, careful, familiar and it brings her back.

"Jack?"

There's a heavy pause in the air before she receives a response.

"Yeah."

She feels a light pressure land on her right wrist and when she turns around and looks down, she sees his hand. She lets her gaze travel from his fingers to his forearm, along his shoulders and up his neck to his face – but she frowns. It doesn't feel right. It's Jack, but it also isn't.

This isn't the Jack that spoke to her on the Prometheus and when he gives her hand a light squeeze, it shatters the remnants of her trance.

She blinks hard to find her three teammates looking at her with concern. The movie has been paused, forgotten about over her sudden interruption.

Pulling her hand from the colonel, she mumbles an apology and turns on her heel. She doesn't see the shake of Jack's head or the way he waves the guys down when they go to follow.

Sam doesn't bother to turn on the main kitchen light. The few downlights are bright enough to let her see what she's doing without adding to her ever-worsening headache. She lifts a glass and turns the faucet but when she tries to get a drink, she discovers her hands are shaking. She slams the faucet off and forgets about the water until a large tanned hand appears over her shoulder and silently does the simple task she was unable to.

"Bad experience?" He asks quietly as he hands her the glass.

"Something like that," she whispers.

She can feel him studying her, but she refuses to meet his gaze.

"You wanna call it a night?"

 _"No!"_

This time she does look at him and he seems surprised by her outburst. She tries to shrug it off. Truthfully, a part of her does want to forget the rest of the evening because she wants to be alone. But the other part of her still can't fathom that she was only missing for four days. It felt like she was on her own for weeks without company.

Finally, she shakes her head. "No, sir. I'll be fine."

He purses his lips, clearly not believing her, but wisely decides against saying so.

"What was it?"

"Prometheus."

She winces. She wasn't supposed to say that.

"Wanna talk about it?"

She goes to say no, but she's so beyond tired that she can't even pretend that she is okay anymore, so when she starts talking, she decides to blame it on the painkillers.

"I had these... visions. Hallucinations, even, when I was stranded."

She averts her gaze, but knows his eyebrows are raised in surprise. "You were all there. Talking to me, trying to help me find a way back home. Well –" she smirks, but the action is devoid of any humor. "Some of you did anyway."

She risks a glance and sees his surprise is gone and confusion is in its place.

"With the head injury and trying to figure out what happened in the first place and the damage caused to the ship... I'm just finding it hard to distinguish what really happened during those four days and what didn't," she shrugs.

"But it's the visions that are bothering you?" he asks carefully.

"No. Yes. Maybe." She sighs and looks at the ground. "I mean – I know the visions aren't real but –"

"They feel like they could be."

She chews on her bottom lip and nods. "It's like you were all there with me at one stage – but you weren't and I'm trying to push all those memories away, but –"

"But?" He hedges when she says nothing else.

"I just – I feel like – those pieces – pieces of _me_ … they haven't been put back together properly. And I don't know how to fix it," she barely whispers.

Jack cants his head, his expression unreadable, and it's only after what feels like an eternity, lets out a heavy sigh.

"Do you need to talk to someone about this?"

"Do you think I need to?"

"I'd rather not make that call," he admits. "But from what you've just told me –" He lets the rest of his sentence hang in the air.

"I'm not talking to Mackenzie."

"And I'm not suggesting you should, Carter, but –"

"But?"

"You don't seem like yourself."

For some reason she can't explain, his words irk her and the irritation must show on her face because he lifts a hand in the air and quickly adds, "It just seems to be taking you longer to recover this time, that's all."

She deflates slightly then and she hears him sigh.

"Look, Hammond's given you a week to recuperate. Take it, Sam. Go visit your brother. Just – just go and clear that head of yours."

She meets his gaze and feels the tears threatening to fall. She doesn't want to take the time off, even though she desperately needs it, but she knows this is his way of buying her some time. Of giving her that week to try and sort out whatever it is going on inside her head before he's forced to intervene. She knows that he would never make her to talk to Mackenzie, but she also knows that if she's off her game in the slightest, he'll pull her from the mission rota without a second thought.

"As your commanding officer, Sam. Your welfare is my priority," he says, as if reading her mind.

"And not as my commanding officer?"

The words leave her lips before she can stop them, but she finds herself unable to look away. She sees the battle play out across his face. His words are low, controlled, when he speaks.

"You're still my priority."

She huffs out a laugh, and watches as he steps closer. He's looking at her with concern and guilt and understanding and it's all too much and she feels her lip start to quiver.

"C'mere," he whispers as he pulls her into his embrace. "It's OK to fall apart, you know," he mutters quietly after a while. "Sometimes that's the only way we can fix the pieces that are broken."

His words, strangely, bring comfort. They are the first thing that has ever since her return, because she believes him and _in him_ and she knows that if anyone understands and can help to put her back together, it's the man holding her in his arms.

"The guys will be getting worried," he adds after a beat and she nods.

She can hear the faint murmur of the television but she knows they haven't been watching it. Just as she goes to pull away, she feels the colonel drop a kiss to the top of her head.

"Go back to the movie, Sam. I'll get the popcorn."

She smiles, thankful that he's not going to drag out their conversation, instead choosing to pull them back into some kind of normality.

When she enters the den, she gives Daniel and Teal'c a small smile before she resumes her position on the couch.

"I'm sorry," she says.

She's nothing to be sorry for, and they all know that, but somehow it makes her feel better.

Jack appears before she can say anything else – or before Daniel can ask her any questions.

"Eyes on the movie, Danny," he quips softly as he hands the archaeologist a fresh bowl of popcorn.

He then moves to sit beside Sam and hands her, her own bowl of popcorn. It's warm and the sweet smell of caramel hits her nose but when she glances down, she freezes. There's Whoppers mixed throughout and the heat of the popcorn has made the coverings melt, coating a number of pieces lightly in chocolate. It's her favorite way to eat both of the treats and for some reason, it brings her another wave of comfort.

She's touched that he remembers her little quirk and a choked sob tries to escape at the intimacy of the action.

It's a reminder that this is real. That _she_ is real. That she is really home, safe and sound, and with her team. _With him._

She feels his hand rest on her shoulder as he gently pulls her against his side, and she glances up at him, but his eyes are focused on the TV. She wants to thank him, but then he gives her a light squeeze.

"Get some rest," he whispers into her hair. "I'll be here when you wake up."

"Really?" she mumbles sleepily.

"Really," he promises.


	20. Penguin Suits And Evening Dresses

**Author's Note: Written for 'Penguin Awareness Day'. Set post-series.**

* * *

Jack O'Neill, a three-star General in the United States Air Force, studies his reflection in the full-length mirror and sighs.

He looks like a penguin.

With a grimace, he hooks a finger underneath his collar and gives it a little tug.

A really uncomfortable penguin.

"Carter," he finally sighs. "Do I really have to –"

"Yes."

"What if I just –"

"No."

"But it's –"

"Are you honestly going to go against presidential orders?"

"Don't think I'm not tempted."

Her laughter fills the room and his gaze shifts. Sam is currently sitting on the edge of the bed as she slips her feet into a pair of heeled shoes and as he watches her through the mirror, he's again reminded just how beautiful his wife is.

His _wife._

 _His._

He's still grinning when Sam stands and eyes him warily.

"What are you smiling at?"

"Nothing," he shrugs as he turns his attention back to his own appearance… and he sees his good mood quickly disappear.

"I look like a penguin," he moans. He catches Sam's eye in the mirror and catches the long-suffering smile on her face. "What?" he asks defensively, as he adjusts the collar once more. "Whoever thought service dress would be more comfortable than a tuxedo?" he mumbles as he brings his hands down and starts fiddling the cuffs of his jacket.

As Sam makes her way across the room and stands just behind him, she places a hand on each of his shoulders, lifts onto the tips of her toes and lets her gaze wander appreciatively.

"You still look good to me, _General O'Neill,_ " she whispers into his ear.

 _"Sam,"_ he warns.

"What?" she asks with a wicked grin as she turns him around and starts to work at his collar and bowtie.

His own hands soon come to rest on her sides, and the tips of his fingers find bare skin thanks to her backless evening dress.

"You look amazing, by the way."

His words cause a deep blush to stain Sam's cheeks and he smiles. He goes to say something else but suddenly he no longer feels like he's about to choke to death and a pair of hands come to rest on his chest.

"Much better," she murmurs.

He tears his gaze away and surveys her handiwork. He doesn't see any difference whatsoever, because he still thinks he looks like a penguin, but he definitely doesn't feel as constricted around the neck anymore so he assumes Sam's worked her magic in some way.

He presses his lips to hers and when she sighs and leans in, he deepens the kiss.

Sam is finally the one to break away, and although she looks a little dazed, she manages to tell him that they really should be leaving. He groans at the reminder that they have to go to this fancy dinner Henry Hayes is hosting, when he'd rather be at home, doing other things, with his wife.

A sly grin appears on his face and he takes one of Sam's hands in his.

"You know… I don't think Hayes would mind if we were a little late," he suggests with a wag of his eyebrows.

Sam throws her head back and laughs. "Why would you want to be late?"

He stares at her like she's suddenly started speaking Goa'uld, and she shakes her head.

"What I mean is," she says as she steps closer, her voice lowering. "Why go late when we can come home early?"

Jack decides he likes that idea much better, so when Sam steps out of his arms and turns to grab her purse, he abruptly pulls her against him, one hand splayed against her lower back and the other cupping the back of her head, his fingers tangling in her hair, as his lips crash onto hers. She responds in kind and their kiss is hot and heavy and _so_ not what they should be doing right now.

It's only when the back of his knees hit the mattress that he realizes as nice as this may be, they really can't skip out on dinner with the President, so he takes his time and slows the kiss and when the need for air becomes too much, he prises his lips away and rests his head against Sam's.

A quiet curse leaves her lips at the loss of contact and Jack chuckles lightly before he winks at her.

"Let's save that for later, shall we?"


	21. Hold On

**Author's Note: For today's celebration, 'Hugging Day'. Although, Squirrel Appreciation Day came a close second (RDA in-joke for those who were at LFCC 2015!)**

* * *

Sam awoke as the first rays of sunlight filtered through the drapes. She felt more rested than she had in a long time; probably because this was the first night in months where she'd managed more than four hours of sleep.

She smiled at the soft snores coming from the man behind her in the bed and as she shuffled back to bring her body closer to his, his arm instinctively tightened around her waist and pulled her closer.

She sighed contentedly. She felt like she could get used to this.

He'd held her before, of course.

There was the time during their first year on SG-1 and they thought Daniel had died. When Sam had realized that their teammate was actually still alive and they'd accidentally left him behind, the then-colonel had pulled her close, held her in his arms and soothed her until her tears stopped.

Then, there was those few weeks on P3R-118 when they'd worked in the mines. They had been Jonah and Thera then, but she still remembered the way he'd held her protectively in his arms every night after lights out, despite knowing that they would get into trouble if they were ever caught together.

Or, there was that one occasion, last year, when Sam thought she had lost him forever. The image of him taking a staff blast to the chest had haunted her and when she'd received word that he had finally been released from the infirmary, she had dropped by his quarters to make sure that he really was still alive. But it was only when his arms wrapped around her and held her tight, that she broke down, his shirt bunched between her fingers as she refused to let go, her desperation overruling any other emotion.

But this time... this time it was different.

He still held her close, but he held her as his lover. His arm strong, yet gentle as it settled over her waist. His fingers determined, yet teasing as they traced patterns over her body. She sighed once again, and smiled when she felt a kiss land behind her ear.

She turned and his other arm came around to circle her waist and effectively trapped her against his body. As she leaned in to kiss him, Sam thought she could definitely get used to waking up every morning with Jack holding her close.


	22. Circle Of Life

**Author's Note: Written for 'Celebration of Life Day'. Set post-series.**

* * *

Jack felt his heart stop as he waited for the tell-tale sign that everything was OK. He'd swear an eternity had passed, when it was in reality only a couple of seconds, but then he heard it.

A loud disgruntled cry shattered the tension and the silence and Jack let out a breath he didn't realize he'd been holding.

He'd never heard anything more beautiful.

A flurry of activity kicked in around him but his attention held fast as he watched the doctor hand Sam the tiny little bundle.

Their daughter.

Suddenly, his vision blurred and he wiped his eyes with the back of his hand.

His gaze traced back to his wife who stared with pure love and awe at the baby in her arms, and as he stepped closer to the bed and whispered, "You did amazing, Sam", he couldn't bring himself to care over the definite waver in his voice.

He leaned closer and let the back of his index finger gently trace the side of their child's face as he tried to memorize the little creases around her eyes as she slowly blinked up at them, down to the way her small, pink lips puckered out as she started to squirm in her mother's arms. Jack felt his breath catch and another wave of emotion threatened to overwhelm him as he watched Sam automatically adjust her gown to accommodate their hungry newborn.

When she had finished feeding their daughter, Sam's eyes locked onto his and she silently handed the baby to her husband.

Holding their daughter in his arms, Jack smiled softly before he pressed a kiss to her forehead. He then carefully moved to hold her in one arm and with his free hand, reached out, took one of Sam's in his and squeezed her fingers tightly. He leaned down to rest his forehead against the side of her head before he dropped a kiss to her temple.

"Thank you," he said, his voice thick with emotion.

He pulled back slightly and let his eyes roam over his wife's face, her eyes glistening with tears.

"You're so beautiful," he murmured, right before a fully-fledged grin appeared on his face. " _Both_ of my girls are."

* * *

 **According to the calendar, Celebration of Life Day is a day when we "take a step back and truly appreciate our children and grandchildren".  
**


	23. Promises And Pie

**Author's Note: Today's entry is dedicated to the man and legend that is Richard Dean Anderson. Happy birthday, RDA!**

 **Written for 'Pie Day'. Set after Threads.**

* * *

Sam froze as she entered her lab, her eyes immediately drawn to the work bench where a small gift bag had been placed. A bag that had not been there thirty minutes earlier.

She slowly made her way around the bench and stared at the mysterious gift before she glanced around. Satisfied that she was alone and could hear nobody approaching her lab, she shrugged and opened the bag.

Inside, was a fork and one large slice of cherry pie.

Sam carefully took it out of the packaging and frowned in bemusement when something caught her eye. She peered back into the bag and found an envelope, which, when she turned it over, had 'SAMANTHA' written on the front.

She smiled at the handwriting. She knew who was responsible.

A small card had been tucked inside the envelope and she studied the front of it for a moment before she flicked it open. She then glanced back to the cover and laughed softly.

"I thought you'd like it."

Sam turned and her smile grew when she saw the General casually leaning against the door jamb.

"I love it. Thank you, sir."

He nodded once before he pushed himself off the wall and gestured towards the untouched slice of pie.

"I'd love to join you, but I've a briefing with SG-12 in five minutes, so..." He trailed off with a shrug and Sam smiled knowingly.

"Where's the rest of it?"

The General canted his head and studied her. "At home," he said quietly.

Sam's lips formed a small 'O' at his words. Maybe it was the way he'd said it that surprised her, but the words had escaped before she could stop them.

"Does that mean I get seconds?"

Embarrassed, she felt her face burn, but the man in front of her just laughed.

"For you, Carter, you can have all the pie you want."

She smiled weakly at his attempt to lighten the mood. This was still new to them both, because despite knowing each other for eight years, it was different now. The door to _that_ room had been unlocked just over a week ago and the proverbial key thrown away.

Chocolate brown eyes locked with crystal clear blue, but they both held the same love and happiness that came with their new relationship. Excitement and lust were also there, because they were now more than the ranks they had been defined by for so long.

"I should –" Jack gestured over his shoulder with his thumb. "See you tonight."

It wasn't exactly a question and Sam smiled softly. "You will."

A small smile also tugged at the corner of the General's mouth. "I'll see you later, Sam… and by all means, have fun," he added brightly, with a grand gesture towards the pie before he disappeared out of sight.

Still smiling, Sam picked up the fork and scooped up some of the pie. She set it back down before it reached her mouth and she lifted the card once again. On the cover, was a cartoon drawing of a pie with a smiley face. Inside, the card was blank, except for a scribbled message from the General.

 _To my favorite egghead,_  
 _Happy Pie Day!_  
 _Always,_

 _J x_

She opened the top drawer of her desk and slid the card inside, just in case anyone might see it. She then reached forward and grabbed the fork.

"This tastes so good," she moaned before she promptly claimed another bite.

She decided that one thing was for certain. No matter what she and the General would get up to at his house this evening, she was definitely going to have another slice of pie first.


	24. What's Your Poison?

**Author's Note: Some of these holidays are blinking hard to write (and it probably shows, I'm sorry!)**

 **Written for 'Beer Can Appreciation Day', 24 January. Set sometime during season 1 – whenever our fab four are most likely to have had their first team night at Jack's house.**

* * *

"What's the difference?"

"What's the difference?" Jack repeated slowly. _"Everything!"_

"I doubt that very much."

"Just trust me on this one, Daniel. There's a difference."

"Beer is beer, Jack," he explained, as if he was talking to a small child. "It'll still taste the same."

The colonel's eyes widened at the audacity of his friend's statement and he waved a finger in his direction. "And you call yourself cultured," he muttered.

With a heaved sigh, Daniel crossed his arms in front of his chest and stared. "Then enlighten me, because I don't see what the big deal is."

"I – you – oy."

When the archaeologist shrugged in response, Jack placed a hand on his shoulder and guided him out of the kitchen and towards the back yard.

"Look, I appreciate your contribution to team night," he said earnestly. "But when have you ever seen me drink beer out of a can?"

"Uh –"

With a slight shake of his head, Jack reached back, grabbed one of the cans and placed it onto Daniel's hand. "Here, you can enjoy the first one."

Daniel rolled his eyes and headed into the yard to where Teal'c was standing guard over the BBQ. At the sight of his two teammates, Jack couldn't help but grin. It hadn't been easy; from getting to know and trust each other, coping with the loss of Sha're, Skaara and Kawalsky, to trying to figure out just what exactly they were doing in the universe, it had been a tough few weeks for them all, but he felt like they were finally starting to settle down into a routine and becoming a team. And despite a couple of small hiccups – like Captain Carter's kidnapping on Simarka – they had already proved that they could work well together, and Jack knew it wouldn't be long before they were great together. He could feel it in his gut. This was going to be the best, most unconventional team he ever had the privilege of commanding.

A light knock on the front door pulled him from his thoughts.

"Carter," he said with an easy smile as he opened the door, before he stepped aside to let her in. "Glad you could make it."

"Thank you, sir," she smiled.

He gestured for her to go into the kitchen and as he followed, he couldn't help but let his gaze wander. He had never seen the captain out of her BDUs or combat gear and he decided that she had a nice figure. He knew that already though, as a flashback of their first meeting entered his mind, but seeing her dressed in civvies, in his home, seemed to reinforce the thought tenfold.

He forced his eyes upwards just as Sam turned around and he realized that she was probably waiting for him to speak or do something. It was the first time she'd been to his home and from the set in her shoulders, he could tell that she wasn't quite at ease. As he thought of something to say to break the tension, Sam beat him to it.

"I know you said not to bring anything, sir, but –" She held out a six-pack of beer. "My dad always said it was rude to turn up to somebody's home empty handed."

Jack took the drinks from her – _beer in bottles_ , he noted – and regarded her closely.

"I find it hard to believe that I'd ever find you rude, captain."

A small smile tugged at the corner of her lips and Jack wondered if he could make her smile like that again. He quickly dismissed the thought, set the bottles on the worktop and leaned his hands on either side.

"For future reference, Sam –" he saw her brief nod and continued. "I'm a man of my word. So, if I say you don't need to bring anything – you don't need to bring anything. Having said that," he added as he slid a glance to the brand she'd brought. "One can never have too much beer, and I like this kind, so thank you."

"You're welcome, sir."

He tried not to focus on how she seemed relieved at his words. "Daniel and Teal'c are out back," he offered as he made his way to the refrigerator. "I'm just going to grab the meat."

"Do you need a hand, sir?"

"No. You're my guest, Carter. Mi casa es tu casa, et cetera," he said with a wave of his hand. "Living room is down the stairs, and you get to the yard from there. Bathroom is down the end of the hall, first door on the right. Help yourself to drinks, and if you need anything else, just ask."

"Thank you, sir."

"Ah. That reminds me," he said as he nudged the refrigerator door shut with his foot and turned to face her. "Think you can cut back on that for just one evening?"

She frowned. "Sir?"

"The 'sir' thing. Despite my well-known propensity for following orders and regulations… I try not to uphold that viewpoint at home," he quipped. He watched Sam as she processed the information and he felt his lips twist into a smirk. "You can call me Jack," he clarified.

"Oh."

He hesitated slightly at her reaction. "Is that a problem?"

"No, sir – ah – sorry, si –" She stopped abruptly and took a deep breath before she offered him a smile. "I just… never mind."

"What's wrong?"

"Nothing. I… I'm not used to spending my free time in the company of my commanding officer, and –"

"If it makes you uncomfortable –"

"No, it's not that, sir. It'll just – take me a while to get used to."

"In case you haven't noticed by now, Carter – I'm not your typical commanding officer."

"I'd noticed."

"So," he hedged as he set the plates he'd been holding down and gestured between them. "We good?"

"Yes, sir," she nodded quickly, then winced at his pointed look. "Sorry, habit."

"Yes, well," he drawled as he picked the plates back up and gestured for her to follow.

He waited until he'd stepped onto the deck and glanced over his shoulder. "Take a seat, Sam."

At his words, both Daniel and Teal'c turned around.

"Captain Carter, it is good to see you," Teal'c said solemnly, while Daniel stood, said hello and gave her a quick hug.

Jack watched their interaction with interest. He'd noticed his two eggheads had bonded almost immediately after meeting on Abydos and they seemed quite close. Not that there was anything else going on beneath the surface, Jack told himself. Daniel was still besotted with Sha're, and Sam – well, he didn't really know what Sam's relationship status was. Not that it was any of his business.

He decided to let his team catch up while he grabbed himself a drink, only to notice that Carter didn't have one either. He gently tapped her shoulder with the back of his hand.

"You want a drink?"

"Whatever you're having is good."

He cast a glance at the can of beer that rested on the table and grimaced.

"Perhaps you'd best come and look for yourself."

When he heard her light footsteps behind him, he said, "I'm having a beer."

"That's fine, sir."

 _"Ah!"_

"Sorry," she mumbled.

He briefly thought about cracking open the beer she'd brought but then opted for Daniel's choice instead, because the sooner it was shared out between them all, the sooner it would be gone from his house. He held one of the cans out to Sam and she slowly reached forward.

"Carter?" He caught the puzzled look on her face as she glanced between him and the can. "You asked for beer, right?"

"Yes, sir."

"Then what's the problem?"

"Nothing, sir."

 _"Carter."_

She hesitated and Jack could virtually hear her arguing with herself over whether to say anything. A part of him was intrigued, but when Sam then bit down on her bottom lip, Jack didn't expect the flutter that stirred in his stomach at the sight. He straightened and quickly set his beer down on the counter.

"Spit it out, Captain."

She grimaced. "Well, sir – with all due respect – you don't seem like the kind of guy who drinks beer from a can."

He couldn't hide his surprise at Sam's words, but he wasn't quite sure what he expected her to say either.

"I'm not," he eventually answered. "Daniel also brought something for our team night," he added at her questioning look.

"Does Daniel drink beer from a can?"

"He does today."

"Right."

"Do you think there's a difference?" He suddenly asked, but found he didn't need to elaborate on the question.

"Yes, sir."

 _"Thank you!"_ He grinned as Sam tried – and failed – to hide her amusement.

"I'm guessing Daniel disagrees."

"Yep. So," he said as he leaned back against the worktop. "What's your poison?"

"Bottle. Every time."

With an approving nod, he gestured for the can.

"My kind of woman," he shot back with an easy grin.

His head was already in the refrigerator as he grabbed two bottles from the shelf, so it was only when he heard Sam's light gasp that he realized what he'd said and froze.

With a wince, he counted to five and slowly turned to find his captain had turned an interesting shade of red and was resolutely avoiding his gaze.

"I didn't mean – I –"

"It's fine, sir," she interrupted, but her smile was tense and the relaxed atmosphere from moments earlier had vanished. "I know what you meant."

He nodded idly. "Oh. Well, good." He frowned then and briefly thought about asking her what, exactly, he'd meant because he didn't have a clue.

He popped the caps off the bottles and handed her one of them. They took the first few sips in awkward silence.

"So," he hedged. "Why bottles?"

"I like the taste better," she shrugged. "And –"

"And," he repeated when she failed to continue.

"And it's nothing, sir."

The blush has returned to the captain's face which told Jack all he needed to know.

"Captain?"

"It's... really trivial, sir."

"Colour me curious," he shrugged as he shoved his free hand into the pocket of his jeans.

He was more than curious. For some unexplainable reason, he had to know what had her so flustered.

"OK," Sam replied slowly. "I just… there's just something about men who drink beer from a bottle."

 _"Excuse me?"_

He isn't mad. In fact, he actually found her admission far more amusing than he probably should. It was also the last thing he expected his straight laced, by-the-book captain to admit.

"I mean – I – I find men who drink beer from bottles to be more – attractive. Sir."

He can't hide his smirk, at either her confession or the deep red blush on her face. She is clearly mortified by what she just admitted but Jack isn't completely stupid and he isn't sure what to say that won't get him into trouble later, so he decided to say nothing and take a drink instead – only to stop when he sees Sam trace his movements.

A soft curse escaped her lips before she quickly averted her gaze.

"I'm sorry, sir. I don't mean to say I find you attractive – I mean you are – well, I –"

For the second time in as many minutes, Jack felt a strange feeling in the pit of his stomach and it – alongside Sam's babbling – took him by surprise. His eyebrows shot towards his hairline as he choked on the gulp of beer he'd just taken, and he forced himself to wave away her help when she moved to his side.

"Are you OK, sir?"

He swiped at his eyes and nodded. "Yeah, I'm good."

Silence fell between the two officers and Sam shuffled nervously. "Um, sir? Do you… do you think we could just forget those last couple of minutes ever happened?"

He regarded her carefully. A part of him _really_ wanted to tease her more about it, but the almost desperate look on her face made him stop. He may be an ass at times, but if Sam asked him to ignore it, he would. Well, he wouldn't mention it in public at least, but he'd _definitely_ be revisiting the conversation in his head.

He grinned as he pushed himself away from the worktop.

"Why don't you head back out to the guys? I'm just going to grab us more drinks."

A long breath escaped Sam and she gave him a half-smile, her eyes never leaving his. "Thank you, sir."

With that, she turned and headed out of the kitchen. Jack watched her leave, his gaze falling lower before he realized what he was doing. He quickly gave himself a shake and grabbed a handful of drinks, but when he caught sight of Sam's half-empty beer on the counter, he smiled to himself.

His captain has surprised him again. It was a skill she seemed to be getting quite good at, which was impressive in itself as it usually took a lot to surprise Jack O'Neill. She was still a mystery though; there so much about her that he didn't know yet. He had only been able to catch the odd insight – like the moment in his kitchen – into that side of Sam's life, but it suddenly didn't feel… _enough_.

It had left him wanting more and as he set the drinks down on the table by the BBQ, he cast a quick glance at his teammate before he turned his attention to the grill.

He was suddenly determined to get to know that side of Sam much better.


	25. A Room Of One's Own

**Author's Note: Written for 'A Room Of One's Own Day', which is thought to have been inspired by Virginia Woolf's 1928 essay of the same name. This fic has a slightly different take on the holiday… A missing scene for Threads.**

* * *

Jack grins smugly but resists the urge to laugh, because he isn't quite sure he's seen anything more beautiful in his life. So, he rests casually against the door jamb and waits.

There's a childlike wonder in her eyes as she looks around, her attention not falling on anything for longer than a second as she tries to take it all in at once. There's a reverence in the way her fingers delicately brush over the back of the couch as she makes her way through the living area and towards the large window, her nose virtually pressing against the glass. There's a tangible buzz in the air – part excitement, part disbelief, part nerves – that after all this time, she's finally here.

Suddenly, as if she hears his thoughts, Sam spins to face him and smiles.

"Can I see the pond?"

Again, he stands back and lets her explore the immediate surroundings by herself.

There's a trepidation in her gait as she steps onto the small dock, her sneakers hitting the wood and lightly disturbing the otherwise silent outdoors. There's a meekness in the way she crouches down and lets the tips of her fingers touch the water, the movement sending ripples out to the center of the pond. There's a captivating air about her as she gets to her feet and turns around.

She bites down on her bottom lip and smiles. "It's beautiful, Jack."

He always knew she would like the cabin, but now that she's actually said the words, he feels a weight lift from his chest. His smile matches hers and he moves closer. His arms casually encircle her in a hug, his hands resting on her lower back.

"I told you," he simply answers.

He doesn't stop to think as he leans in and kisses her, and he doesn't think he'll ever get used to the fact that Sam can – and does – always kiss him back. He grins against her lips, an opportunity the woman in his arms uses to deepen the kiss, brushing her tongue against his and he involuntarily moans at the sensation it arouses. They kiss for one minute, or maybe five, Jack doesn't know nor particularly care, but he does have to freshen up the cabin before it gets too dark, so he reluctantly pulls away from Sam.

"You want me to give you the proper guided tour?"

She nods eagerly at his question and he lets his hands fall away until one of them quickly gathers one of her hands in his and he gently pulls her back towards the cabin.

"I'm just gonna grab the bags from the truck so we can decide on the sleeping arrangements and then –"

He trails off when he feels Sam stop just behind him.

"Sam?"

"I – ah – completely forgot about the – uh – bedroom situation."

Jack purses his lips in an effort to stop himself from grinning at her phrasing.

 _Bedroom situation._

Truth be told, he already knows of the ideal bedroom situation, but he's also made it abundantly clear that this fishing trip is for Sam to relax and recover from the events of the past few weeks – if not months – and nothing else.

Daniel and Teal'c know about the change in their relationship, and it isn't like they're going to be _inappropriate_ with their teammates around, but he understands Sam's hesitation and embarrassment.

They both know what the other wants; they've already made that abundantly clear, but this is different. It's all still unchartered territory. So, everything they do this week, is Sam's call and he decides to remind her that it's okay and she has options.

"There's enough room for us all to have our own," he offers. "Or," he adds carefully. "You could – you know – if you want that is – stay with me."

He hears Sam's slight intake of breath and the uncertainty that flashes behind her eyes, so he gently squeezes her hand in reassurance.

"No pressure," he murmurs.

She tries to avert her gaze, but Jack doesn't let her.

"This is your call, Sam."

She studies him closely and after a few seconds, a light blush appears on her face. "I think," she says, as a smile tugs at the corner of her lips. "That after four years of having a room of our own and not being able to use it… it's about time we share."


	26. Everyone Loves A Wedding

**Author's Note: Written for Spouse's Day. Also known as Military Spouse's Day, "the day is dedicated to recognizing spouses of everywhere; from being thankful for fulfilment and security of a long-term relationship, to the boost to morale and well-being provided by spouses of those in the military."**

 **With regards to this episode, I know it was Mitchell's 200** **th** **trip through the gate, but I'll forever be Team Jack, so I'm using it as an excuse to celebrate 10 years of the Stargate Program instead. :)**

* * *

Sam watched with amusement as General O'Neill strode casually towards her, carrying two cups of punch. With a smile, he pushed one of them into her right hand.

"Drink up, Carter!"

"Thank you, sir."

He pulled a face at the honorific and his voice took on a distinctive whine.

"Really, Carter? We're off-world, having a party to celebrate ten years of the Program… and you still insist on calling me, _sir?_ "

She couldn't help but smile. "Sorry, si–"

Jack raised an eyebrow and Sam had the decency to look sheepish. Clearing her throat, she squared her shoulders as she met his gaze. "Well, what would you have me call you?"

His eyes widened for a fraction of a second before he grinned. "Well, I've always been partial to –"

"Jack! Sam! Enjoying the party?" Daniel shouted as he staggered towards them, Vala in tow.

Sam shook her head at the slightly inebriated archaeologist as he started to sway on his feet. When he swayed just a little too close to the General, the older man shoved his drink into Carter's free hand just as Daniel slammed into his left side. Putting an arm around his friend's waist, Jack slowly tried to push him back into a standing position – at the same time as Vala stepped forward and leaned against Daniel's other side.

"Uh, Carter? A little help here. _Please,_ " Jack all but pleaded as he pulled his face away from Daniel's.

Sam's enjoyment of the situation immediately disappeared and she set their drinks on the ground. She grabbed onto Vala's arm and extricated her to her side, leaving Jack to deal with Daniel. A brief silence fell as everyone tried to regain their bearings, but the peace was soon broken when Vala squealed and pointed to an area just over their shoulders.

"What's that?"

"Uhh, that's a – ah – uh –"

"Piñata," Sam supplied, when Daniel struggled to find the word.

Vala nodded enthusiastically. "And what does a piñata do?"

 _"T!"_ Jack suddenly hollered, making Sam jump. He shrugged an apology as Teal'c joined the group. "Vala wants to know more about the piñata over there. Think you can help?" he asked, giving his friend a pointed look.

Head slightly bowed, Teal'c smiled. "Indeed, O'Neill."

Vala's face immediately lit up and she let go of Sam's arm and latched onto her other teammate instead.

"Let's go muscles!"

With a nod, Teal'c started to move away, only to stop when Jack cleared his throat. He lifted his shoulder slightly and gestured for him to take Daniel as well. It took a few seconds but then Sam and the General watched with amusement as their three friends made their way unsteadily towards the party piece.

"Here you go, _Jack,_ " Sam said as she handed him back his drink.

"Thanks, Carter."

"Really, sir? We're off-world, having a party to celebrate ten years of the Program… and you still insist on calling me, _Carter?_ "

"That's different."

"How so?"

He looked at her and shrugged. "It just is."

"I –"

"You're Carter."

Sam felt herself blush at the intensity in his gaze. She'd missed those chocolate brown eyes so much. More than that. She had missed _him_.

Moments later, Jack nudged her shoulder with his.

"How'd she know anyway?"

"Hmm?"

"Vala. How did she know?"

"About?"

"About _us_ , Carter," he said in quiet exasperation.

Sam's eyes widened. " _Oh!_ I don't think she does," she answered just as quietly.

Jack frowned. "What?"

"All she said was everyone loves a wedding. That was the example she gave, she didn't specifically say that we _were_ married."

"She didn't need to say anything _specific,_ Carter. Your smile gave it all away."

"My smile?" she repeated in bemusement.

"Yes. You had the whole – smug – smile thing going on," he mumbled as he waved his hand around in vague circle.

"I wasn't smug."

"Purlease. You couldn't have looked more pleased if you tried."

At his words, Sam started to laugh and her amusement quickly caught the attention of those around them which made Jack uneasy.

"Uh, Sam," he whispered. "Think you can do that a little quieter?"

Unfortunately for Jack, his attempt to get his wife to stop laughing had the opposite effect. Finally, he snapped.

 _"For cryin' out loud, Carter!"_

He placed a hand on her arm and pulled her further away from the crowd.

"I'm – so – sorry," she gasped, before she descended into more giggles when Jack just stared unamused. "Oh, come on," she said, sobering slightly as she wiped a few tears away. "You have to admit – it was funny."

"It wasn't funny, Carter!"

"Well, aside from Thor and most of the guest list – she was pretty close."

When Jack didn't say anything, Sam narrowed her eyes. "Why'd you look so uncomfortable?"

"Huh?"

"At the base. When Vala… said what she said," Sam replied. "You looked uncomfortable."

"No, I didn't."

"Yes, you did."

"Did not."

"Did too. It was almost as if –" She stopped abruptly and gave him a tight smile. "Never mind."

"What?"

"Well, for a second… I thought you were going to deny it."

Jack's expression immediately softened. "I'd never do that, Sam."

"I know," she sighed guilty. "I'm sorry, I just –"

"OK. So, maybe I was a tad – perturbed," he admitted.

"Why?"

He shrugged and to anyone who didn't know the General well, he looked the picture of nonchalance, but Sam caught the tell-tale twitch of his jaw. He gave her a rueful smile as he lifted his left hand.

"It's been, what, eighteen months now?" He asked as he subtly wiggled his ring finger.

Sam nodded.

"And most of that time we've spent apart," he continued quietly as he turned his body to hers just so, so that no-one else was privy to the conversation. "I guess I just want you to myself for a while longer before anyone else finds out."

A soft smile graced Sam's lips, and when Jack looked slightly bashful, she wanted nothing more than to kiss him. But she couldn't. She turned so it brought her closer to him, but not too close that it would draw attention, and let the back of her fingers brush against his as she kept her gaze on the crowd around them.

"I love you," she murmured.

She felt the General's eyes on her and heard the happiness in his voice. "Yeah?"

Sam nodded. "Yeah."

"You know, it's funny," he said a moment later.

"What's that?"

He turned his attention back to their surroundings as he hooked his pinky finger with hers. "I love you too," he grinned.


	27. Punch The Clock

**Author's Note: Written for 'Punch The Clock Day' on 27 January which is "a day dedicated to working for 'The Man'". Set during season 8 – pre-Affinity.**

* * *

"Have a good evening, General."

"You too, Sergeant," Jack replied as he handed the sign-out sheet back to the young officer and waited on the elevator.

Dressed in slacks and a long-sleeved round neck jumper, he hooked a finger into the label of his leather jacket and slung it over his shoulder. As outward appearances went, Jack was ever the professional and remained calm. Inside, however, he was jumping for joy at the fact that he was finally able to leave the base on time – for the first time – since he took over from Hammond four weeks ago.

As it turned out – and despite what his former team might have told him – being 'The Man' definitely had more cons than pros attached to it. Therefore, he was determined, for once, to make it out of Cheyenne Mountain at a normal hour, go home, have a couple of beers and catch up with The Simpsons before he completely lost his mind.

"General O'Neill!"

He sighed heavily.

He'd been so close.

Maybe if he decided to just ignore whoever called his name, he'd still be able to leave. He closed his eyes and visualized the ice-cold beer with his name on it, and could virtually taste the liquid as he took that first tantalizing sip and it hit the back of his throat. The bitter aftertaste and the brief satisfaction –

"General O'Neill?"

His eyes snapped open, dark and threatening as he came face to face with Sergeant Allen. Not giving anything away, Jack was secretly pleased with himself when the officer suddenly paled and took a step back.

Allen had reached the rank of sergeant three months ago, but had only transferred to the SGC a week after Jack had taken over the reins. So, while the man had proved his worth to be stationed at the most secret facility on the planet, he was also still new enough at the base to not realize that he should have just left well enough alone when Jack was punching out for the evening. The General simply stared and watched as a thin line of sweat formed on Allen's brow.

"Sergeant?"

"General, sir. Uh, Walter – uh, Sergeant –"

"Chief Master Sergeant," Jack cut in gruffly.

"Ah, yes, sir. Chief Master Sergeant Harriman is looking for you. Sir."

"Is he now?"

Allen nodded. "Yes, sir."

"And what does dear Walter want?"

The young man hesitated, not quite sure how to refer to the officer in question. "Uh... he mentioned something about a form requiring your signature, General."

Jack rolled his eyes. He figured as much. All he seemed to do over the past month was sign requisition forms for toilet rolls and ballpoint pens.

"I left Walter with strict instructions that I was heading home for the evening, Sergeant."

Allen nodded again, but slower this time. "Yes, sir, he mentioned that… but he also said that was before he realized he needed your signature. Something to do with an overhaul of the gate diagnostics and –"

He stopped abruptly when the General's jaw tightened. "Colonel Carter requested the overhaul, sir."

"Of course she did." He sighed once more before he opened his arms wide and gave the Sergeant an exasperated look. "So, where is it?"

Allen frowned. "Sir?"

"The form, Sergeant. The form that is so important that it's coming between my very important social time," Jack finished with an exaggerated wave of his hand.

"Oh. Uh, Sergeant Harriman still has it, sir."

He let his head drop to his chest as he slowly and silently counted to ten.

"Umm... sir?"

"Where's Walter now? " he asked with a sigh.

"Control Room, sir."

Jack nodded absently, before he followed the younger man down the corridor.

"Remind me to thank Carter for this tomorrow," he grumbled.

* * *

It was another twenty minutes before Jack was able to make his way back to the elevator and attempt to go home, albeit in a much fouler mood than before his run in with Allen. He had just acknowledged the airmen on duty once again and stepped into the elevator when a female voice could be heard coming from further along the corridor.

"General!"

"Oh, for crying out loud!"

Jack slammed an index finger against the button to stop the doors from closing and bit back a curse. Any other time, he'd love nothing more than to see Carter, but since it was technically _her_ fault that he'd been kept late, he was going to make this the exception. Choosing to be even more petulant, he remained inside the elevator. If she was looking him, she'd have to come to him. He was _The Man_ after all.

He waited on her approaching – and he waited, but when no blonde astrophysicist appeared, he frowned. He leaned forward when her voice drifted from around the corner.

"I'm sorry, sir. I'm coming. I'm just signing out."

He nodded, even though she couldn't see, so he leaned against the wall of the elevator and waited. When Jack heard the sound of her footsteps hitting the metal floor beside him, he looked up and his eyes widened.

Carter was indeed signing out for the evening, because she was no longer in her BDUs, and she had obviously chosen her motorcycle as her means of transport for the day. She was dressed in her leathers.

And quite nice leathers too, Jack mused as his eyes travelled up and down her body.

"Sir?"

His gaze flew to Sam's at her question and he suddenly realized he'd been caught checking her out – and quite possibly drooling as well. He snapped his mouth shut as she continued to stare at him, slightly confused.

"Is everything OK, sir?"

He really wanted to say everything was more than OK, but instead he gave her a wide, fake grin and said, "Just peachy, Carter."

When she smiled in return, he felt himself relax slightly.

The elevator doors closed and they started to make their way to the surface, and unlike him, Sam seemed to be paying no attention to the suddenly charged atmosphere as she fiddled with the cuff of her jacket. Her back was to him and Jack silently argued with himself to keep his attention on the elevator doors. Traitorously, however, he quickly found his gaze sliding to his left – to Carter. From the subtle scent of her strawberry and mint shampoo which had followed her into the elevator, to the way she held herself – standing tall and proud in her gear – to the way her tousled blonde hair teased the top of her collar and the material of the leathers framed every perfect curve in her body, including her oh-so-perfect –

"– exciting, sir?"

Jack involuntarily straightened. He'd been so lost in admiring Carter's ass that he hadn't realized she'd been speaking.

"Sorry, Carter. What was that?"

She stopped adjusting her jacket and turned. "I asked if you had any exciting plans for this evening."

Without thinking, he gave her another quick onceover before he forced his attention back to her slightly flushed face. He cleared his throat awkwardly.

"Uh... pizza. Beer. The Simpsons," he stated with the most casual shrug he could manage. "You?"

Sam nodded slowly. "Oh, I was actually going home to do the same, sir. Well, just without The Simpsons," she grinned.

The elevator came to a stop and Jack gestured for her to go first as the doors slid open at the surface. She smiled her thanks and they made their way across the parking lot. As they neared their respective vehicles, Sam turned to face him and he suddenly realized he didn't want to say goodnight just yet.

"Y'know, I was thinking –" He started, running a hand across the back of his neck. "Why don't you join me – for pizza and beer?"

Sam's eyes widened and he tried to ignore how surprised she seemed to be at his proposal.

"It's been a while since we've just... hung out," he added with an awkward grin. "Since I've been made 'The Man' and all."

"Sir, I – thank you, sir, but –" she winced and when she shook her head, Jack was just about to tell her to forget he'd asked, when she narrowed her eyes. "Will you make me watch The Simpsons?"

"You don't know what you're missing."

Looking unconvinced, she smirked when Jack rolled his eyes and relented. " _Fine!_ No Homer or Marge – I promise."

Finally, Sam's skeptical expression disappeared and she treated him to one of those megawatt smiles. Jack swore his heart stopped beating.

"OK then, sir. If I meet you at your house, say –"

"In thirty?"

Sam nodded. She pulled her helmet on and mounted her bike, while Jack stood and traced her movements, not bothering to hide his grin as he admired her leather-clad six one final time.

Still grinning, he reached his truck and jumped in.

Some days it did pay to punch the clock late after all.


	28. Desperate Times

**Author's Note: I couldn't decide which holiday to pick for today as there were two that stood out, so this is a little bonus chapter. The previous chapter (Punch The Clock) is the main entry for today (27 January) –** **FF messed up the order for a while...**

 **Written for 'National Geographic Day'.**

* * *

Next to his Simpsons DVDs, the most important collection Jack owned – in his eyes – was his National Geographics. But when he set the crate of magazines down and looked at them, he knew he'd trade them in a heartbeat, a hundred times over, if it brought Carter back to him alive and well and safe.

Something didn't feel right. The homeless man was nowhere to be seen but Jack could feel the hairs on the back of his neck stand on end. He was being watched.

Jack decided to leave the magazines and hoped their new owner would return soon to find them and appreciate them. As he turned and started to make his way back to his truck, he heard footsteps.

"Hi, Jack."

He felt his stomach plummet.

"Don't turn around."

With Maybourne's appearance Jack had a renewed sense of hope that they'd be one step closer to finding Sam; but his appearance also brought dread as it confirmed the colonel's suspicions. That the NID were behind Carter's disappearance. And they'd had a four-day head start with his major in their possession. He didn't want to think about what could have happened to her during that time, and all because he and the rest of the team had no idea that she was missing.

Once they got Carter back, Jack promised that he would be setting new ground rules with his team about daily check-ins. He didn't care if it sounded stupid or a waste of time. If something happened to Sam because he hadn't thought to contact her or make sure she was OK because he hadn't heard from her in two days, he'd never forgive himself.

He forced the thoughts aside and half-turned to face Maybourne.

"Harry, where ya been?" He said as casually as he could muster, a wry smile twisting his lips. "You never write. You don't call."

"I have a gun."

"So do I," he shrugged.

"I'm just trying to protect you. I'm a wanted criminal. It's your duty to arrest me and all."

"Always thinking of the other guy," he nodded unconvinced. "How'd you find me?"

"Played a lot of hide and seek as a kid. Funny, I could always find anyone anywhere but they could never find me."

"Because they didn't _want_ to," Jack shot back as his patience started to wear thin – something Maybourne seemed to pick up on.

"What do you need, Jack?"

He hesitated for a second before he answered, all previous anger and joking gone.

"Carter's missing."

"Really?"

"Bunch of guys in a van took her out of this lot about four days ago. Figured it might be some of your old friends."

"Not the word I'd use for them."

"What do you know?"

"Sorry."

With a smile void of humor, Jack levelled a challenging stare. "You didn't come back into this country and risk execution just to see me."

"God knows I could think of a hundred reasons why the NID might want Major Carter," he admitted. "But I swear to you I don't know where she is or why she was taken. Why don't you ask the NID?"

"Gee, thanks," Jack drawled. "Hadn't thought of that."

"Try user 4574."

Jack narrowed his eyes. "What does that mean?"

"Wish I could stay and chat."

"Harry," he said firmly, and Jack wasn't quite sure if it was supposed to be a warning or a plea for help on his part. "We're talking about Carter, here."

He caught a hint of regret in the man's expression before it vanished. "I know," Maybourne eventually said. "I'm sorry, Jack. I really am. You know how this game is played and the kind of people who play it. You gotta prepare yourself for the possibility that she may not be coming back."

Jack's jaw tightened at his words as he watched him walk away.

"Well, that's just fucking unacceptable," he muttered as he pulled his cell phone from his pocket. "Yeah, it's O'Neill. Get me Hammond," he growled as he made his way back to his truck, his anger increasing with every step.

 _"Jack. Any progress?"_ _  
_  
"I've just had a run-in with Maybourne, sir."

 _"Maybourne?"_ _  
_  
"Yeah. He didn't have much information, except to say try user 4574."

 _"That's all he said? User 4574. I think we know who that is, colonel."_ _  
_  
"And that would be?"

He heard Hammond sigh heavily and didn't like where this was heading. _"Colonel Simmons."_

Jack's anger skyrocketed.

 _Colonel Frank Simmons._

He thought back to just a few months earlier, when Orlin followed the team through the gate and made himself at home – in Carter's home. He remembered the way Simmons had tried to discredit the major and questioned her ability to do her job.

He was struck with the memory a few weeks after that incident to when SG-1 had their minds altered by the supposed 'Lieutenant Tyler'. Following the whole situation, Jack heard Simmons and Carter had butted heads again, but Sam had refused to tell him what had happened. He'd heard later through the SGC grapevine, however, that Simmons had threatened to destroy her career.

Jack didn't need any more information. He knew the son of a bitch was involved with the major's disappearance, and he swore then and there that if Simmons had so much as laid a finger on Carter, he was a dead man.

The general's voice suddenly broke through his thoughts.

 _"Is that understood, Jack?"_

"Sir?"

 _"I said we need to be careful, son."_

He pulled a face at Hammond's unspoken warning. He knew his commanding officer was right; they needed to be sensible, and as much as he preferred to shoot first ask questions later, he wouldn't do anything that could jeopardize Carter's life.

"Yes, sir."

He wouldn't use violence to get some answers out of Simmons, or whomever he needed to from the NID – at least not _yet_ anyway – but that didn't mean he couldn't ruffle a few feathers along the way.

There was only one thing to do.

He'd a nice comfy office in the Pentagon to visit.

"Permission to go to Washington, sir?"


	29. Wrapped Up

**Author's Note: Written for 'Bubble Wrap Appreciation Day'. This fic didn't go the way I thought it would, to be honest... Episode tag for season 5 '2001'.**

* * *

Jack remains a half-step behind Sam as she slowly makes her way across the parking lot of the SGC. Her left ankle is badly swollen and she's finding it difficult to walk, but her other injuries leave her unable to use crutches and she all together refuses the use of a chair to get to the colonel's truck.

Personally, Jack thinks she should still be in the infirmary, but Janet has already kept her in one night for observation and, when no further signs of concussion emerged, she was willing to discharge Sam – on the provision that she actually went home for a week to rest. The doctor's ultimatum saw the rest of SG-1 agree to keep an eye on their teammate, with Jack – naturally – taking the first shift.

He tells himself that his decision to be the one to drive Carter home is the same decision he would make for Daniel or Teal'c, because that's what a good and concerned commanding officer should do, right?

 _Right._

An elbow to his side pulls him from his thoughts and he instinctively reaches out for Sam as she stumbles forward.

"Sorry, sir," she mumbles.

"It's fine, Carter. We're almost there."

He holds onto her arm for a moment longer and gives it a gentle squeeze before letting his hand fall by his side. He risks another glance as she starts to move and sighs.

 _She's alive_ , he tells himself. _A little broken and bruised, but alive._

He tries to bite back his anger. He had voiced his distrust of the Aschen to General Hammond shortly after their first meeting with Mollem; and he'd been right – yet again – with his judgment, regardless of what Kinsey had told the bureaucrats in Washington. He had also insisted on going with Carter and the Ambassador on the last trip through the gate, but Kinsey had interfered and dictated otherwise. That's when Jack's instincts really kicked in and he'd had a _really_ bad feeling regarding the mission. And it turned out he had every reason to. The Ambassador didn't make it back to Earth and Carter – well, she was thrown out of the Stargate that hard and fast, Jack was surprised she'd only come away with a broken clavicle, bruised ribs and a sprained ankle.

He's hit with images of Sam being flung out of the Stargate and the clanging and how the sound reverberated as her body hit the ramp a number of times before she landed in a heap at their feet. He briefly thinks about going back to Hammond and suggesting a damper for the gate room – like coating the ramp in bubble wrap or some kind of absorbent cotton, but he pushes the idea aside when he realizes they've reached his truck. He quickly opens the passenger door and helps Sam onto the seat.

"Put your seatbelt on," he murmurs.

He lets her get comfortable as he throws her bag into the back of the cab, but when he comes to stand beside her again, she's struggling to pull the belt across her body.

"Here, let me." He leans in close, pulls it down and hands it to her. Sam just sighs in response and her breath tickles his face.

"I'm sorry, sir," she whispers.

He feels her eyes burning into the side of his face. Not moving from where he stands, he turns his head, his face just inches from hers. "For what?"

The woman sitting in the front of his truck looks so small and vulnerable that for a moment he thinks it isn't _his_ Carter. But then she looks at him with those eyes and it's her. She's _right there_ and Jack has this fiercely unexplainable urge to protect her. To the point where if he could wrap _her_ up in bubble wrap or wads of cotton to keep her safe, he would – as ridiculous as the idea sounds even to his ears. He knows that Sam can look after herself, and that – injured or not – she'd probably kick his ass if she knew the protective thoughts that were currently going around his head, but he hasn't seen her look this fragile before and it scares him.

"The inconvenience," she finally answers, breaking through his thoughts. She doesn't meet his gaze, but offers him a half-hearted shrug. A movement he knows Sam regrets instantly when it jars her shoulder.

Jack's expression softens, but he resists the temptation to reach out and touch her, especially when her eyes glisten with tears. Instead, he leans infinitesimally closer and holds her gaze, giving the belt a gentle tug.

"You're alive, Sam. That's never an inconvenience."

His honesty surprises her and he waits as she searches his face for something to tell her the words he isn't able to admit out loud.

When a single tear slips down her face, she closes her eyes and he cups her face, the pad of his thumb wiping it away. Sam goes to speak, but he stops her by clicking the seatbelt into place.

"C'mon. Let's get you home."


	30. Pick A Word

**Author's Note: Written for 'Puzzle Day'.**

* * *

"Me and my big mouth," Jack grouses to his empty office.

Swiping the piece of paper from his desk, he studies it and sighs, but decides that nothing is going to stop him from finishing the puzzle. OK, so his answers may not necessarily be the ones Sam's looking for, but maybe if she just sees it complete, she'll not look too closely at the answers.

A deprecating snort escapes and he rolls his eyes at his own stupidity.

This was _Carter_. Of course, she'll look too closely.

Sighing again, he picks up a pencil and starts bouncing it between his thumb and index finger.

"Let's see… five across… ha!"

He grins triumphantly as he scribbles down his answer in the appropriate squares before moving on to the next clue.

"And to think Carter's the genius around here," he chuckles.

A half hour later and he rounds the corner as casually as he can manage and into Sam's lab.

"Oh, Carter?"

He's pretty sure she can hear the unmistakable pride in his voice before she even turns around.

"Sir?" she finally answers spinning in her chair with what looks suspiciously like a fake smile aimed in his direction.

"Whatcha doin'?"

"Do you really want to know?"

"I –" He frowns, because he really doesn't. "No. But here, I've got something for you."

With a flourish, he produces the now-folded piece of paper with the crossword on it and holds it out to her. She eyes him warily but she reaches for it regardless, and when her fingers brush against his, Jack tries not to react to the way her touch makes his entire body hum.

"Have you finished this already?"

"Yep."

"It's completed?"

"Yep."

"Correctly?"

He sighs dramatically as his fingers drum against the surface of the lab bench. "Yes, Carter."

"And you're sure you don't want to run an eye over it again?"

"No, but thank you for the unwavering faith you're showing in my puzzle-completing skills."

She tries, but fails, to hide her amusement. "OK," she answers, lifting her hands in the air in a placating gesture. "I just wanted to check."

Jack grunts in response, but he doesn't really mind – because it's Carter. To be fair, he thinks she could probably shoot him and he still wouldn't care. He hears her sigh and looks in her direction.

"We're really doing this?"

"I believe the deal was your physics crap – ah, _book_ – physics book – for my Simpsons comics. Plus, a hundred bucks _and_ loser buys dinner."

Sam shakes her head at his boyish grin and unfolds the piece of paper. He watches as she picks one of the clues at random and then looks for his answer. His attention shifts between the page and Carter's face but she's giving nothing away in her expression.

And then he sees it. That glint in her eye, and he knows he's screwed.

He tries not to wince as Sam methodically refolds the puzzle and slides it across the lab bench, her gaze now latched onto his.

They stare at each other for a few seconds, before he sighs in defeat. "Alright, hit me."

When a smirk is his answer, he steps closer to the bench and leans his elbows on the surface, his shoulder brushing Sam's, while one of his hands grabs the paper and he starts to turn it over between his fingers.

"Five across. Big Bertha's birthplace. Five letters."

His expression is neutral, but he's frantically trying to remember what he's written. Not that it really matters. It's clearly wrong.

"The answer is _Essen_ ," Sam provides. "You've written _Miami_."

"Yes," he answers, a strange smile on his face as he recalls his answer.

"Miami?" Sam asks in bemusement.

"What? We had a neighbor in Chicago who ended up moving back to Miami with her husband," he shrugs. "She was called Bertha, but all the kids used to call her 'Big Bertha' because she had really big –"

"I get it," Sam cuts in with a look of displeasure. "You do know what Big Bertha is, right, sir?"

He knows there's a faraway look in his eye – which probably tells Sam all she needs to know. He _isn't_ thinking about Essen. With a sigh, his teammate stands and reaches over him and Jack tries desperately not to lean in with her and smell her hair. He fleetingly thinks about asking her what shampoo she uses when he sees her pull a very thick and heavy-looking book from a nearby shelf.

"Get reading," she quips as she drops the book into his hands.

Slowly, almost fearfully, Jack casts his gaze downwards and pulls a face.

 _Differentiable Manifolds And Theoretical Astrophysics: An Introduction._

"Oh, for cryin' out loud," he grumbles. "Say, Carter. Wanna go double or nothing?"


	31. Hold The Line

**Author's Note: Written for 'Inane Answering Message Day', and I can only apologize because I was in a completely angsty, crappy mood when I wrote this (it's been one of those days). Episode tag for season 8 'New Order' and for the purposes of this story, Jack's been in stasis for three months.**

* * *

They say you should never go to bed angry – or upset. Something to do with how the bad feelings that you're experiencing will just twist and turn and develop into bone-deep resentment, and yada, yada, yada…

With hindsight, perhaps if Samantha had listened to the advice she'd be in a much healthier position right now, but she didn't, so she isn't.

It's too late for her, she thinks. She's spent the past three months festering her anger and subsequent bitterness to the point where she's about to snap.

Or, maybe she has already. Perhaps that's why Fifth was so focused on engineering her a happy life with Pete, because he mistook her anger over the colonel's situation for anger at the colonel himself, so he assumed he meant nothing to her.

 _Did you really think that you could convince me that this illusion was my life? That I would just accept it?_

For a fleeting moment, she did think about it though; when she saw the dog running towards her and for just a second, she was expecting to see the colonel stroll around the corner and throw her an easy smile.

 _If it was something you wanted badly enough in your mind._

And, yeah, if she's honest, she does want it. But Fifth got it wrong. She doesn't want that kind of life with Pete, and that is what set off the alarm bells in her head.

 _Human emotions can be very overwhelming._

She snorts at how patronising that sounds, even to her own ears, and even if it is true.

She remembers the relief when she opened her eyes and saw Teal'c crouched nearby. The ease she felt, knowing that Fifth had released her, but she wasn't fully convinced it was real until her eyes landed on _him_ , and the anger and despair that weighed down on her shoulders for months, disappeared in an instant.

Her skin still feels alight from where his fingers grazed her hip before settling on her thigh, and the low buzz of electricity that his touch sent through her entire body hasn't diminished. That's when she really knew that she was no longer a prisoner. The feelings that he stirred within her, you couldn't replicate, no matter how hard you tried.

But seeing Jack and knowing that he is alive and home again doesn't bring the relief or overwhelming happiness she expects. It just brings her more pain – a whole new level of torture.

It's almost frightening how quickly they've been able to fall into a normal routine again – or as normal as it can be now that the colonel is a general and she's the leader of SG-1.

Sam scoffs at the turn of events.

The then-colonel had retired – _again_ – when they were on Ronan's ship and – for once – Sam thought this was finally their time. She, Daniel and Teal'c would find a way to save his life and bring him home; his resignation would stick and then they could maybe – _maybe_ – give this thing between them a go. But instead Murphy's Law had other ideas.

So, now, not only is he still her commanding officer, but he is the commanding officer of the _entire_ SGC. Talk about off-limits.

Only now it's harder than before, because she's had three months. Three months where she's foolishly allowed herself to break down the barriers she had carefully erected when it came to Jack O'Neill. And now she has to build them back up again, stronger than before. It's why she's turned down his offer of a team night, in favor of sitting at home alone. She tries to ignore the hurt in his eyes before it was masked with confusion, and she absolutely refuses to dwell on the understanding and sympathetic – yet wildly irritating – look Daniel gave her when she made her excuses. She decides Teal'c's reaction wasn't far behind.

But she isn't angry with them, she's angry with herself for putting them in this position. Jack may not remember a thing, but Daniel and Teal'c? They saw her struggle to keep it together when he'd said goodbye. They saw her fall apart a few weeks later when the pain of missing him was just too much. They saw her push all of her emotions back into a very overcrowded room when he returned.

She knows the guys won't necessarily say anything incriminating to the general, but she's just not ready to deal with the fact that he's here – and they're even further apart than before.

Guilt forces its way to the surface. She knows she has worried her teammates because every waking moment she spent at the SGC was focused on trying anything and anyone to bring Jack home.

The only difference between this situation and the time he was stuck on Edora, was the fact that Sam actually went home most evenings.

At the beginning, Daniel assumed it was because she had Pete; that she now had somebody to go home to – something to take her mind off the job.

She knew it was wrong, but she never corrected him. She just decided to let Daniel think that way – even though she hadn't actually seen or spoken to Pete in months. It was only six weeks after the colonel's selfless act, when Daniel suggested a team night – and to extend the invitation to Pete – that she admitted he wasn't around.

Sure, he'd called and tried to arrange another date but she just hadn't been interested, so she kept putting it off. And she does feel bad; he's a nice guy, but not the one for her.

Her little stint with Fifth finally helps her see that, she realizes.

She glances down at the cell phone clenched in her right hand and sighs. Daniel had later asked her what she did in the evenings if she wasn't with Pete, but she never did give him an answer. How could she?

How could she tell him that she went home every night and found herself dialling Jack's home number? How could she explain that while she knew he wouldn't pick up, there was always a semblance of hope that he would?

That just for those few moments, right before she fell asleep, she heard his voice. It wasn't much, just a gruff _"O'Neill. Go.",_ as his answering machine picked up. Some nights, the succinct greeting made her smile; others, it was like a driving pain in her chest as she wondered if she would ever see him again. To think that she could never hear those crappy jokes again that she knew he only ever told for her benefit.

Sam knows it's ridiculous, but the sound of his voice brought her the comfort and strength she needed to go back to work the next morning and continue with her efforts to bring him home.

But now he is home and she desperately wants to hear his voice again.

She flips open her cell and, without thinking, types out the number, but pauses just before she dials.

She can't do this anymore. She shouldn't have been doing it in the first place, but definitely not now. Not now that he's home and head of the SGC and so far out of reach.

She sighs in frustration and runs a hand through her hair, but studies the phone and the way her thumb continues to hover over the dial button.

* * *

Jack throws his keys onto the sideboard in the hallway, not bothering to see where they actually land, and heads for the kitchen, so he doesn't see the loaded look Daniel and Teal'c share as they follow him into his house. For someone who had escaped death once more, then been recalled to active duty _again_ , and then promoted, he'd been in a surprisingly good mood. Yet his joviality quickly vanished whenever he'd offered to host a team night – and Sam had declined.

He isn't stupid; he's aware of the fact that Sam's been acting strangely around him for a couple of days now – ever since their reunion on Orilla – but there are still chunks of his memory missing, so he can't remember if he's said or done something before he went all Ancient that she's still pissed at him for.

Vaguely aware of his teammates – _former_ teammates – he quickly corrects, moving around his kitchen, he wonders if he should ask them.

"Is everything OK with Carter?"

But if he's looking for reassurance that she is fine, he doesn't get it from the look on their faces.

"What makes you think something's wrong?"

He gives Daniel a look and he shrugs. "Maybe she already had plans?"

"Carter?" Jack grins. "What kind of –" He stops abruptly and his humor disappears when one memory comes flying right back at him. "I take it the cop is still around."

It isn't exactly a question, but he busies himself by putting a few groceries away.

"Actually," Daniel hesitates. "He isn't."

"Oh," he manages. He lets his gaze slowly meet his friend's – just in time to see him in another silent exchange with Teal'c.

"What's going on?"

"Nothing," the archaeologist replies quickly, then scrunches his face up. "She's... probably just tired, Jack."

"Indeed," Teal'c adds. "Colonel Carter worked most exhaustively in her attempts to bring you back home, O'Neill."

He isn't quite sure how to take that statement, but hearing Carter work herself into the ground doesn't surprise him in the slightest. It wouldn't be the first time she's done it to save his sorry ass.

"How was she when I was – you know – " He waves a hand around in a vague gesture.

"She was Sam."

Again, Jack isn't sure how he feels about that assessment, but he catches the look in Daniel's eye and the underlying meaning in his words.

He nods slightly as he glances around the kitchen and realizes just how weird it feels being back in his house even though, in his mind, he's only been away from it for a few days.

Daniel's voice cuts through his thoughts before he can start to dwell over recent events.

"We're, ah, going to head back to the base, Jack, but if you need anything –"

"I thought we were having a team night," he frowns.

"We were," he nods. "But… are you really in the mood for company now?"

His jaw tightens. A part of him does want company; to just sit with his friends and not have to worry about anything for a few hours. But the situation feels new and a little unwelcome and he feels like it'd be better if he's left alone for the rest of the evening.

He sees Daniel nod and smile in understanding. "We'll see ourselves out."

When he hears the front door close, Jack sighs heavily and runs a hand over his face. He's starting to feel like he's suffocating so he opens the windows and takes a deep breath as the cool, spring air reaches him. It takes a while until the panic lessens, and the itch under his skin feels like just a minor annoyance before he can finally move away from the window. He takes his time putting away the last few groceries when he spies the answering machine in the living room and its red light. It's solid, not even flashing, and he sighs. He never gets messages and it doesn't leave him with a good feeling.

He heads into the living room and hits the button on the machine before he turns back to the kitchen.

 _Inbox full. You have 40 new messages._

He spins around and frowns at the machine.

"What the hell?"

Slowly, he walks towards it and waits.

 _First new message. Message left on April 26th, 2004, at 7.35pm._

The message starts but it's only silence coming over the speaker. His frown deepens when the it suddenly cuts off.

 _Second new message. Message left on April 27th, 2004, at 7.35pm._

 _Third new message. Message left –_

Jack slams a finger down to stop the machine. All of the messages are the same. Swivelling on his heel, he goes into the kitchen, grabs a beer from the refrigerator and returns to the living room before settling on the couch. He takes a long swig before he glances at the machine and hits the button.

The silence plays too loud, but something in Jack's gut tells him to keep listening, so he does. It takes twenty-one messages before he hears it. The ragged breathing. The sniffle and soft crying over the phone, right before Sam whispers, "I'm sorry, Jack."

The rest of the messages remain silent, but he feels something inside him start to uncoil.

He isn't sure how long he stares at the machine but the sudden ringing of the phone shatters the quietness of the room and he jumps. He instinctively reaches out to lift it from the receiver but freezes when he catches a glimpse of the clock.

 _7.35pm._

He considers letting the machine pick up, but for some reason he doesn't, and his voice is soft when he answers. "O'Neill. Go."

Her sharp intake of breath loosens the twist in his chest a little more and he lets out a breath he doesn't realize he's been holding.

"Jack," she breathes.

"Sam."

"I –"

He knows he's caught her off-guard and he smiles to himself. "So, you're the one I've to thank for leaving all these messages on my machine?"

There's no admonishment, no judgment, and he relaxes when he hears a slight huff of laughter travel along the line.

"How many?"

"Every day for the past three months."

He turns his head to look at the machine. The sums don't add up.

"The machine only holds forty messages. Any you don't save or listen to within twenty days are erased," she explains, as if she can read his mind.

"Ah."

"I missed you," she says quietly.

"I know."

"Did Daniel tell you that?"

"Teal'c, actually."

"Tattletale."

He grins when he hears the amusement in her voice, and Daniel's earlier words play over in his head, right before he's slapped with a memory of him and Carter sitting on his couch – talking, but not. It takes him a few moments to catch up with the images and he speaks before he realizes. "Want me to come over?"

"I – I don't know if that's such a good idea. Sir."

"That's not what I asked."

There's a heavy pause, and he thinks about rescinding the offer. "Look, Sam –"

"Yes," she interrupts, leaving him momentarily in surprise.

"OK," he nods. "Without any interruptions or donuts this time?"

He hears her soft laughter and smiles. "Sounds good… Jack."


	32. Out Of Order

**Author's Note: Written for 'Backward Day', the day where "the world gets turned upside down and inside becomes out…" et cetera.**

* * *

"Wh – what did you say?"

Jack purses his lips and thinks briefly about the absurdity of the situation. But their relationship – if they can call it that – has never been conventional, so it's only natural that he proposes to her within the first week of them dating.

"I said marry me."

"That's what I thought you said," Sam answers absently as she pulls her hand free from his. "Jack, as much as I – I don't –" She sighs in frustration.

"I know it's fast, but –" He ignores the huff of laughter that escapes her. "This could be our only chance, Carter."

He holds her gaze and waits patiently as she studies him. "Explain it to me again."

"Hammond's retiring and both he and Hayes want me to take the job." When he sees Sam nod, he continues. "But they are aware of our – _situation_. If we want to be together… we only have a four-week window. After that, technically, we'd be breaking the regs."

"And we have to go back to the way things were before? Only you'll be in Washington and I'll be in Nevada."

"It's the best they can do, Sam. Only Hammond and the President will know about this."

"What if it doesn't work?"

At his frown, Sam gestures between them. "I mean, say we do this, and it turns out we can't live with each other. What if – what if – we have really annoying habits? What if we find out that we have nothing in common and we've just been badly, badly mistaken over the past few years?"

"Do you really believe that?"

She sighs guiltily. "No."

He takes a step closer and catches the fingers of Sam's left hand in his.

"You prefer cherry pie over pumpkin, and blue Jell-O over red. You like your coffee with cream and one sugar. There is a half dozen crappy romance novels on your bookshelf at home that you like to pretend are Cassie's but they're actually yours and you read them when you've got some downtime. You've used the same shampoo for the eight years – a mix of strawberry and mint," he adds proudly when she just stares at him. "You let out this whimper just before you wake up. There's a little crease that forms between your eyebrows when you're concentrating really hard on something. When you eat dessert, you always close your eyes with the first mouthful, because you think it makes it taste better. When you make a breakthrough with one of your doohickeys or you get your hands on a new piece of alien technology, your eyes sparkle."

He gently tugs on her hand to pull her closer.

"You're the smartest, sexiest, most incredible woman I know, Sam. I've watched – and admired – your six for years," he grins, before he turns serious. "We practically lived together on SG-1 when we were away on missions. Off-world – when I was on watch – on more than one occasion, I watched you sleep and wondered what it'd be like to hold you and wake up with you in my arms. I know we can make this work," he whispers. "But if this isn't what you want –"

"I want it," she interrupts quickly. "I do, it's just – this isn't how I expected things to turn out."

"I know."

"I'm not complaining," she insists. "I just thought we'd get to try the whole dating thing first."

"Are you really surprised?"

"No, not really," she admits with a soft chuckle. "Nothing's ever been straightforward for us."

"Doesn't mean it's been wrong, though."

She meets his gaze and Jack can virtually hear her thoughts as she works everything out in her head.

Finally, Sam's lips twist into a shy smile.

"OK," she says as she squeezes his hand. "Let's get married."

* * *

 **And that's a wrap for January!**


	33. Paint The Town Red

**Author's Note: Written for 'Wear Red Day' on 1 February.**

* * *

He tries to keep his eyes front and center and focus on what the leader of PXY-891 is saying. He really does. Partly, because he absolutely _cannot_ look at Carter, and partly because Daniel tells him it's important that he pays attention during the ceremony. Something about offending the locals otherwise, but whatever the ruler-leader-officiant is saying just isn't capturing his attention the way Carter's appearance is.

Against Jack's better judgment, he finds his gaze drift left and then down, down, down.

The sound of Sam softly clearing her throat makes him snap out of it and he sees her watching him out of the corner of her eye.

"Sorry," he mumbles.

He thinks he manages to focus for a minute before his curiosity gets the better of him.

"Sir," she hisses and subtly gestures with her head for him to pay attention.

He straightens and keeps his gaze in front, until he hears a sigh and realizes he's staring again. He goes to apologize but sees Daniel frowning at him suspiciously over the top of Sam's head, and decides to say nothing.

After a few minutes pass, a chorus of unintelligible chanting starts somewhere in the crowd, and once more he glances down – on the premise that he's trying to find the source of the singing – when Sam swiftly elbows him in the ribs.

"Hey!"

"Colonel, will you please stop staring!" She whispers, her gaze unwavering to a point somewhere in front of them.

He takes a half-step to his left to bring him closer to Sam and follows her line of sight. "I can't help it," he fires back just as quietly. "It's not exactly in keeping with regulations, Major."

"Seriously?"

"What?"

"We're barefoot; we have to pretend to be married again in order to fulfil some ancient prophecy –"

"You make it sound like it's a bad thing –"

"And we're expected to make use of the 'honeymoon suite' later, and the only thing you think is against regulations is my –"

Daniel clears his throat loudly, stopping the rest of Sam's argument. She casts a glance towards her teammate on her left and shrugs. "He started it."

Jack smirks at her petulance, but then he suddenly finds himself stumbling forward when Teal'c, who has been standing to his right, nudges the back of his shoulder with his. _Hard._ He turns to ask what he did to deserve having his shoulder blades lodged into his throat, but the extremely unimpressed look on his friend's face makes Jack think twice. So, he straightens up and tries not to notice the smirk on Sam's face.

It's another few minutes before the chanting quietens and the officiant steps forward, utters a few words to Jack, and then Sam, who both glance towards Daniel for a translation.

"Uh," Daniel winces. "You may now kiss the bride, Jack. Make it look convincing," he adds quietly as he throws the officiant a placating smile.

"For crying out loud," he mumbles.

"Gee, thanks, sir."

"That's not what I – ah, hell."

In one smooth movement, he turns to Sam, one arm looping around her shoulders and the other going to her lower back as his lips crash against hers. It only takes her a second to respond and then he's dipping her and the move makes Sam gasp, so he takes the opportunity to deepen the kiss.

It is only when a low moan escapes from one of them – he isn't quite sure who – that he remembers where they are and pulls back. When he and Sam are both standing side by side again, he flicks his attention to Daniel, shrugs and asks as nonchalantly as he can manage, "Convincing enough for you?"

But he turns away before Daniel can answer or give him one of those knowing looks of his. Instead, he lets his eyes rest on Sam. She looks a little dazed, and there's a deep blush on her face, and Jack can't help but grin in the knowledge that he's caused that reaction. He risks letting his gaze wander further down to her feet and sees Sam's toes now curled in the grass.

His grin widens, and in that moment, he realizes he doesn't really care if her painted red toenails are against regulations or not.

All he knows is that it looks damn good on her.


	34. Kiss But Don't Tell

**Author's Note:** **Written for 'Groundhog Day'.**

* * *

"O'Neill."

Jack glanced up from his task of trying to recreate the shape of Homer Simpson's head on a plate with a bottle of mustard.

"Teal'c, my man! Take a load off," he quipped as he replaced the mustard with ketchup.

As Teal'c sat down, he frowned at the scene before him. "Are we taking another loop off, O'Neill?"

"Yup."

"Are you not concerned about the number of loops we are not partaking of?"

"No," he shrugged.

"The longer we delay in assisting Daniel Jackson with his translation, the longer we will remain trapped in the time loop."

Jack sighed in resignation and set the bottle of ketchup on the table with more force than necessary.

"I know, Teal'c, and you're right. I just... needed to regroup. That ancient stuff really messes with your head."

"Indeed," he answered solemnly.

They fell into a comfortable silence. As Jack studied his handiwork, he smiled. "You know, I always thought Groundhog Day would be cool. But it's really not," he huffed, crossing his arms across his chest.

"I do not understand, O'Neill."

"What's that?"

"What is Groundhog Day?"

Jack ran a hand over his face and resisted the urge to sigh. It wasn't Teal'c's fault; he was just really, really tired. But he tried to explain it anyway.

"I'm referring to the movie, Teal'c. Bill Murray stars as a weatherman who has to cover this annual event - called Groundhog Day - but he gets caught in a time loop, and is forced to relive the same day over and over again."

"I see."

"Yeah, so when he realizes that he's in this time loop, he starts trying things he's never done before, because he knows it's always going to revert back, but he eventually gets bored and tries different things to make it end."

"Were there no consequences to his actions?"

"Nope. He was the only one to remember."

The answer seemed to satisfy Teal'c, and as Jack cast a quick glance around the commissary, he drew in a long breath and let it go, puffing out his cheeks. Moments later he started to drum his fingers on the table top, only to freeze. Slowly, he pushed his chair back from the table, got to his feet and smiled.

"Excuse me."

Teal'c stared after the colonel in concern and waited thirty seconds before he decided to follow, knowing that whatever idea he'd just had, would not end well.

* * *

" _Yes!"_ Jack exclaimed quietly, throwing in a fist pump for good measure.

He threw the book back into his desk drawer, checked the time on his watch and slid his chair over to the computer in his office. With a new-found sense of purpose, he started typing wildly, and only vaguely registered his friend standing at the door.

"O'Neill."

"Yeah," he answered distractedly as he looked for the 'print' button on the screen.

"Is there a problem?"

"Nope. Just something I've gotta do," he replied, crowing when the document started to print.

He leaped out of the chair and snatched the piece of paper, before he turned on his heel. As he passed Teal'c in the doorway, he grinned and slapped him on the shoulder. "Sorry, buddy. Gotta go!"

Jack jogged through the corridors of the SGC and arrived at the team's locker room. It took him ten minutes to change into his civvies and make his way towards his intended destination. He felt nervous, which was ridiculous, because he knew if he timed it perfectly, he'd have just enough time to make his move and enjoy it without feeling too guilty. Before he had time to dwell on any concerns he might have, he entered the control room and caught a glimpse of General Hammond and Carter watching the gate. He cast a quick glance towards it himself and the words left his mouth before he could stop them.

"Excuse me, George?"

 _Five._

He tried not to smirk at the mild annoyance on the General's face. "Colonel, what are you doing out of uniform?"

 _Four._

"Handing you my resignation," he answered casually.

 _Three._

"Resigning? What for?" Sam asked in concern as she moved towards him.

 _Two._

He turned to face her. This was it. "So, I can do _this._ "

 _One._

With no hesitation, he stepped forward and kissed her on the lips. He tried to hide his surprise at the jolt of desire that swept through his body the instant their lips touched, but as he cupped Sam's face, he couldn't help but grin. He knew, without a doubt, that this was one of the best ideas he'd ever had.

Feeling brave, he wrapped his arms around her and dipped her backwards. He vaguely registered her arms creep around his neck, and his skin started to feel like it was on fire. However, it was only when Sam actually responded to his kiss, that Jack knew he was lost. And suddenly his good idea seemed very, _very_ bad. Especially when, just a second later, he was back to sitting opposite her in the commissary. The loop had reset, Daniel was yammering on about a topic he still didn't know, and all Jack could think about was the taste of Sam on his lips and the dangerous effect she'd had on him.

He closed his eyes and sighed. Enough was enough.

He _really_ needed to restore time and absolutely take no more loops off.

With a huff of annoyance, he shoved a spoonful of Froot Loops in his mouth and tried to remember as many ancient words as possible.


	35. Significant Other

**Author's Note: Written for 'Dump Your Significant Jerk Day' on 3 February. A missing scene, if you will, for Threads.**

* * *

"Basically, unless the fate of the universe hangs in the balance, I don't want to know."

Colonel Reynolds huffed out a laugh. "I think I can handle those orders, Jack."

"Make sure you do, Albert." With a crooked grin and a final, supportive pat on the shoulder, the General watched his friend make his way to his truck before he closed the door.

Suddenly, the events of the day seemed to catch up with him and he ran a hand over his face. He was exhausted. It had been a good afternoon – or at least as good an afternoon as it could be when you were hosting a wake. It wasn't a large affair, or even something that had been greatly planned, but he'd offered his home for the gathering while a drop-in invitation had been extended to those on the base who wished to pay their respects. However, over the course of the day, Jack had spotted every single one of the officers under his command. Some had only stayed ten minutes, others an hour, but they had all made the effort. It was a fitting goodbye for Jacob who was held in high regard by many within the SGC; but Jack also knew that everyone who'd shown up, had done so for Sam. They were there for _her_ and spoke volumes of the respect they held for the colonel. The realization made Jack incredibly proud of his people and the close family-like bond they shared in Cheyenne Mountain.

With a groan, he pushed himself away from the door and headed into the living room where Daniel and Teal'c were quietly collecting empty bottles and plates. He glanced around and frowned when he noticed somebody was missing.

"Where's Carter?"

Daniel paused in his ministrations. "She said she was going to tackle outside."

Jack's frown deepened at his tone. "What's wrong?"

Silently, the archaeologist pointed towards the window. Jack followed his line of sight. It was difficult to see as dusk had fallen, but he could just make out Sam's form. She was sitting on the steps of the deck as she stared up at the encroaching night sky.

With a sigh, he turned on his heel. He'd just reached the doorway when Daniel cleared his throat.

"Uh, Jack?"

"Yeah?"

"Aren't you going to –" He gestured with his head towards Sam.

"Give her a minute," he answered quietly before he left the room.

He entered the kitchen and switched on the coffee maker. Pulling two mugs from the cupboard, he set them alongside the machine. He didn't see the look Daniel and Teal'c shared as they followed, but he could feel their eyes on him as they started to clear the food and drinks from the table.

"Everything OK, Jack?"

"Just fine, Daniel," he replied not meeting his gaze.

"Are you sure, because –"

"I'm sure," he interrupted, then sighed. "It's been a hell of a week."

He caught his friend's nod out of the corner of his eye.

"What about Sam?"

Jack finally turned and studied his former teammate. "What about her?"

"Is she OK?"

"She's just buried her dad."

"I know," Daniel mumbled. "I just meant – well, she hasn't seemed herself today."

"Again, she's just buried her father."

"I think there's more to it than that."

Jack pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed. "Daniel –"

"I agree with Daniel Jackson," Teal'c cut in. "Colonel Carter appeared most preoccupied this afternoon."

"For crying out –" He ran a hand through his hair. "Look, Carter's probably got a lot on her mind right now. She knows we're here if she needs us, so just… give her some space."

He aimed his last words at Daniel, who held his hands up in the air. "Whatever you say, Jack."

The coffee machine clicked softly, breaking the tense silence in the room, and the General turned to fill the cups.

"I didn't see Pete this afternoon."

Jack froze. It took him a few seconds to recover from Daniel's statement. "Perhaps he was busy."

"Too busy to attend the wake of his fiancé's father?"

 _"Daniel,"_ he warned.

"I'm just saying. Isn't it weird that he didn't show up? I mean –"

"Daniel," Jack snapped. "It's none of our business. So, drop it."

The archaeologist's face creased in concern and his voice was quiet when he spoke. "I'm just worried about Sam."

"I know," he sighed. "Me too."

The three men continued with their respective tasks in silence for a few moments before Jack lifted the two cups of coffee. With them balanced in one hand, he went into the den, grabbed a throw from the back of the couch and made his way to the glass door that led outside. He slid it open and stepped onto the deck, careful to close the door behind him.

"Here," he said softly as he approached Sam.

She offered a small smile of thanks as she took a cup from him and wrapped her hands around it. Slowly, Jack moved to her right and lowered himself onto the step beside her. He set his own coffee down by his feet before he unfolded the throw and placed it around Sam's shoulders.

"It's cold out here," he offered when she glanced at him.

She continued to stare, her eyes roaming his face and Jack had to force himself not to look away.

"I've been thinking," Sam suddenly uttered as she broke the gaze and returned her attention to the sky.

"Dangerous." His comment garnered a half-smile, for which he was grateful, but then he turned serious. "What were you thinking about?"

"I think... I think I need a break."

Jack frowned at her choice of words, especially when she refused to meet his eye. Eventually, he prompted, "As in?"

"From work."

"Ah." He hesitated. "You know you can take all the time that you want – or need – Carter."

In fact, he was just about to forge ahead and order her to take time off, when she shook her head.

"No, it's not that, it's just –" She paused and took a deep breath. "You know the leave I'd booked for the end of the month?"

Jack tried to hide his wince at her question. Sam did indeed have the week off, because it was the week her wedding and honeymoon for Pete were scheduled. He tried to think of how best to answer when –

"I cancelled it."

His eyebrows shot up so fast, he briefly thought Teal'c would be proud. "Why would you –"

"Or not so much as cancelled my leave, but rather the plans I had for that week."

"I – uh – huh?"

Jack frowned, but Sam continued regardless, her attention focused on her feet.

"Yeah. I was actually thinking of going on vacation instead."

He couldn't hide the surprise in his voice. "A vacation, Carter? You?" Without thinking, he reached over and pressed the back of his hand to her forehead. With a small grin, he quipped, "You sure you're feeling OK?"

The move surprised Sam and her eyes briefly met his. The next thing Jack knew, Sam had placed her coffee on the ground and slowly reached up to move his hand, her fingers lightly curled around his as she brought their hands to rest between them on the deck. She didn't release her grip, but averted her gaze to a point somewhere along the far edge of the yard.

"I thought I might go somewhere… rural. You know, without Pete."

Jack's heart started to beat rapidly at the softness that filled Sam's voice and he had to swallow hard at the emotions it evoked.

"Rural?" he quietly asked.

"Yeah," she nodded. "You see, I have this... friend."

"A friend?" he repeated slowly.

"Mhmm, and they've been trying to get me to visit them for a while, but I've never accepted. I've wanted to," she added quickly, as she glanced to her right. "But for one reason or another…"

When she trailed off, Jack let out a breath he didn't realize he'd been holding as he tried to clear his head and focus on what Sam had – or hadn't – told him. He looked down at their entwined hands, his left and Sam's right, and he twisted his grip slightly to run his thumb along the inside of her wrist.

"Carter –"

Suddenly, Sam's left hand also landed on his, stopping the movement of his thumb.

It took a few seconds before he spotted it.

Her ring finger was bare, and her words from earlier suddenly registered in his mind.

"You said without Pete?"

"I did."

"What happened?"

Sam shrugged and he thought that was the best – and only – answer he would get, but he didn't really mind. For one, it wasn't any of his business and two, he wasn't quite sure he wanted to know. All he did know, was that if the cop was gone, and Kerry was also gone, then maybe –

"I want to go to the cabin, Jack."

His eyes snapped to Sam's and he floundered for something to say.

"That is, if the invitation still stands?"

As Jack continued to try and think of something to say amidst his shock, Sam started to mistake his silence for something else. It was only the movement of her hand withdrawing from his that pulled him from his thoughts and his grip immediately tightened around her fingers.

"For you, Sam," he whispered as he pulled her close, buried his nose in her hair and replaced his words with a feather-light kiss. "Always."

* * *

 **Incase I haven't mentioned it before, I absolutely** _ **hate**_ **Pete. His character just did not work for Sam. I mean, what real competition did he offer? He was up against JACK O'NEILL. Anyways, I really wanted to make this a fic that was purely bashing Pete, but I know Sam would never do that on the show, so this is what my imagination created instead… I still think he's a significant jerk, though.**


	36. Food For Thought

**Author's Note: Written for 'Homemade Soup Day' on 4 February.**

* * *

Sam growled in frustration, but the action caused her already-irritated throat to flare up again and she coughed violently. When she was finally able to breathe somewhat normally again, she sighed. Of all the things that could get her benched from SG-1's latest mission, it had to be the flu.

For the first three days of being ill, the captain had been confined to the infirmary while the rest of the team continued on with the mission as planned. Then, when the guys had arrived home safe and in one piece, Janet had reluctantly agreed to release Sam from her care, on the understanding that the colonel, Daniel and Teal'c checked in on her regularly. At the time, Sam was too tired to argue and was content to let them lead her out of the base and take her home.

But now, she had been stuck at home for a week and she still looked, felt and sounded dreadful. Her teammates have – unsurprisingly – been great and taken turns to check in on her and make sure she ate or slept or took her medication. Left exhausted, however, Sam decided that all she wanted now was to feel better and get back to work.

She strained to see the time on her watch, but when a wave of dizziness suddenly made itself known, she let her head fall back against the cushion. _Ten minutes,_ she told herself. She only had ten more minutes to wait until Daniel arrived for his shift. Sam had started to get used to the company – even if she was not much company herself – but she felt safe when her team was close by.

Images of her three teammates situated around her tiny living room as they watched television made her smile as she started to doze.

Sam wasn't sure how long she slept but when she tried to roll onto her side, her back and neck were stiff. Gingerly, she pushed herself into a seated position and closed her eyes as the room spun around her.

She took a few deep breaths and opened her eyes – only to find a bowl of soup had been placed on the coffee table in front of her. She frowned. It definitely had not been there moments earlier. A noise from the kitchen caught her attention and she froze.

"Daniel?" She croaked. "Is that you?"

If she could laugh, she would, because she quickly realized that it didn't matter if it was an intruder in her house. She was still too sick to put up any kind of fight – unless she could overpower them with a sneeze, and then she'd be fine.

"How're you feeling, captain?"

Her head snapped up and she just caught a glimpse of Colonel O'Neill walking into the living room before she felt dizzy again. She closed her eyes and almost immediately felt a weight press down on her wrist. It wasn't heavy; more comforting than anything else and Sam focused on the way it made her feel until the light-headedness stopped. When she opened her eyes, the colonel was perched on the edge of the table, his hand gently wrapped around her wrist and his thumb running back and forth against her skin.

"You OK?"

"Yes, sir," she mumbled. "What are you –"

"Daniel's back at the mountain," he interrupted softly. "SG-5 came across some Goa'uld tablet thingy on their last mission, so he and Teal'c are helping to translate the text. They think it could be important, so I said I'd take his shift here."

"Oh."

It's not that Sam isn't glad to see him, because she is, but she had expected Daniel. All of the guys look after her well, but she's just more comfortable with Daniel. Perhaps because there's no military ranks between them. She's also realized that this is the first time her commanding officer has visited her without one of the others in tow. She isn't sure how she should feel about the discovery, but it did set off little butterflies in her stomach.

"So, I'll ask again," he said carefully, cutting through her thoughts. "How are you?"

"I'll be fine, sir."

He smirked at her answer and Sam frowned in response.

"Still feeling like crap, huh?"

She started to object, but was too tired to lie. She was also convinced that her appearance gave her away, so she nodded and she could have sworn the expression on his face softened.

"I've got to be honest, Carter," he said. "You don't look too hot either."

She grimaced, but then her breath caught in her throat. She coughed, but despite the pain and abuse her lungs had undergone over the past week, she felt the colonel's hand rest firmly on her back, rubbing smooth circles as he murmured for her to take deeper breaths. After what felt like an eternity, the hacking cough subsided.

"Here, drink some of this," he said as he handed her a glass of water.

She followed his order before she shakily gave it back.

"Y'alright?"

"Yes, sir," she nodded.

She glanced up to see him looking at her with concern. Sam was surprised by his reaction as she felt her commanding officer was an expert when it came to hiding how he felt. However, as they sat side-by-side, shoulder-to-shoulder on her small couch, she discovered that didn't always seem to be the case.

Without warning, something flashed in his eyes and he slowly reached out and tucked an errant strand of hair behind her ear. Sam's eyes instinctively closed at the gesture and she could feel his hand hover for a couple of seconds before she felt bereft of the contact. When she heard him curse softly, she opened her eyes and found his hands clasped together tightly as they rested in his lap and he was studiously avoiding her gaze.

She reached up to touch her face. She could still feel the spot where the backs of his fingers had brushed against her cheek just moments earlier and she felt herself blush. Determined to blame her flushed appearance on her poor health, she noticed her commanding officer watching her out of the corner of his eye.

"Is something wrong, sir?" She asked quietly.

His eyes were dark, his expression unreadable, and then it was gone and he seemed to snap out of his thoughts.

"You should try the soup," he suggested, and Sam paused at the strange tone of his voice. "It'll help make you feel better – and then you should get some more sleep."

With no further explanation, he left the living room and Sam frowned. His behavior was odd to say the least and she briefly wondered if he was also starting to fall ill. If she could, she would have followed him, but the smell of the soup reached her nostrils and she decided to try it instead. In the end, she could only manage a few spoonfuls, but she did feel slightly better now that something was in her stomach.

She pushed the bowl away as the colonel reappeared and she couldn't help but notice that he looked more like himself. His tough exterior and neutral expression were back in place and she watched as he silently placed another glass of water on the table before he took a seat beside her. But then he hesitated for a moment and his eyes met hers.

With a look Sam wasn't sure she could interpret, Jack put his arm around her and pulled her carefully against his side. She went willingly, and told herself that it was simply because she was too tired to do anything else. Her head was spinning, but when she felt his chin rest on top of her head, she instantly relaxed and closed her eyes.

"Get some rest, Sam," he whispered, giving her arm a reassuring squeeze.

She nodded in response and moments later tried to convince herself that as she started to fall asleep, she didn't feel the colonel press a kiss into her hair.


	37. Stormy Waters

**Author's Note: Written for 'Weatherman's Day' on 5 February.** **The celebration "helps to honor those who work in the field of meteorology, from the storm spotters to the people you see on camera."** **A tenuous link at best for this fic!**

* * *

The door slides open and crashes into its frame making the glass shake violently, its vibrations deafening in the otherwise now silent room.

 _Leave me the fuck alone._

But Sam doesn't follow the order. She just stands in the doorway and waits.

Between the final remnants of daylight and the worsening weather conditions, she is just able to make out the colonel's silhouette as he storms towards the far end of the yard. It's raining and it bounces off his body deftly, the droplets being sent in every direction as his shoulders rise and fall – once, twice, three times – with his ragged breathing. But it's his hands that hold her attention. The way they shake, right before they are balled into fists by his side. It takes a while, but then he slowly uncurls and flexes his fingers.

She's rarely seen him like this and a part of her knows she needs to leave, because it's safer. He's on the verge of slipping into the darkness and that's when he becomes unpredictable. Dangerous.

But Sam's always had a love for danger. And it's this illicit, perhaps foolish, desire that makes her step out onto the deck and go to him.

"If you really want me to leave," she offers softly as she comes to a stop a few feet behind him, "I will. But –"

"No." He sighs heavily. "Stay."

Her gaze roams over his form, the tension radiating from every muscle and joint and nerve.

"Just drop the subject," he adds on a whisper, his back still to her.

"OK," she agrees and takes a step closer. "If you want –"

Without warning, the colonel spins on his heel and Sam catches the fire and fury in his eyes but she doesn't flinch.

"You don't know what I want," he growls. "Even if you did –"

He stops abruptly and studies her. His eyes cold, yet blazing hot. Unseeing, and yet staring as if he can see right through to her soul.

Sam slowly takes another step closer.

"Try me."

 _"Carter,"_ he warns. "Don't – don't do this."

"Do what?" she whispers as she takes one final step, her face now just inches from his.

When he doesn't answer, she reaches for his hand and lets her fingers tangle with his. "You don't have to do this alone."

His entire body shakes and she knows he needs a release. The effects of the sarcophagus still linger within him.

She feels his fingers twitch against hers. "Sam," he whispers. "I'm barely hanging on here."

"Then let go."

It's her way of saying she understands. That she knows he isn't ready to even start putting the hell of Baal's torture chamber behind him; but that she'll be here when he is.

"He loved her," he chokes out. "That's why he went back. The bastard used that against me – used _you_ against me."

She frowns. "Me?"

When he just nods in response, Sam sees the unshed tears in his eyes. "I told you once before, that I'd rather die myself than lose you. Kanan… he felt the same way about Shallan. It wasn't you – I _knew_ it wasn't you in that chamber – but he made me think it was and I couldn't – I had to get you out of there."

"I know."

"He loved her," he repeats, his voice rough.

She holds his gaze. His expression is intense, almost threatening, and for a moment Sam thinks he is angry with her, but then he pulls her to him and covers her mouth with his. His mouth is warm against the cold rain and she responds immediately, as she feels his tongue tease her lips. A low moan escapes her at the sensation and he uses it to deepen the kiss, his hands sliding to either side of her face, keeping her there. He's kissing her hard, almost bruising, but she doesn't care. She hasn't felt this alive in weeks; ever since the colonel fell ill and she watched helplessly as he was implanted with a Tok'ra symbiote. A blending _she_ persuaded him to undergo.

Suddenly, Jack pushes her away as if he's been burned.

"I'm sorry, Carter," he says in a strangled voice, his words almost lost in the rain. "I didn't – I shouldn't –"

Immediately, she steps up to him and places a finger against his lips.

She idly wonders if his heart is beating as fast as hers, or if he is feeling anything akin to the desire that has settled low in her belly. But then she sees his darkened eyes and she has her answer.

She thinks she really should have left earlier, because while she's not going to regret this, she knows that as she removes her hand and presses her lips back to his, things are going to be a hell of a lot messier in the morning.


	38. Stone Cold Sober

**Author's Note: Written for 'Frozen Yogurt Day' (6 February). It was slim pickings for today's celebrations, so I hope this is OK! Set shortly after the events of Jolinar's Memories/The Devil You Know.**

* * *

In the end, Jacob foregoes the idea of Alaska for a father-daughter vacation. Having been trapped in hell for the best part of a week, and then trapped in the SGC's infirmary for two days to recover from the worst of his injuries, the former US Air Force General didn't relish the idea of being trapped on a plane for five hours.

Instead, he's opted to stay in Colorado Springs with Sam until he's due to return to the Tok'ra. The weather isn't as cold as he'd like, but the opportunity to spend a few days with his daughter more than makes up for that.

His eyes take in the scene before him and he grins. This is his second day Earth-side and it appears that his family vacation now includes the rest of SG-1. He's not quite sure whose idea it was, but they end up in the park. Sam and Daniel are in front, animatedly in discussion, with Teal'c a step and a half behind. He remains silent, but listens intently to his teammates as he keeps his eyes on their surroundings.

And situated just to Jacob's right, is Colonel O'Neill.

Sliding his gaze sideways, he notices that the younger man is favoring his leg slightly and the action is a harsh reminder of the mission they've come through.

"I don't think I've properly thanked you, yet."

Jack turns his head slightly, but his eyes are hidden behind his shades. "For what?"

"The rescue."

"Ah. All in a day's work," he quips as he faces front again.

"How's the knee?"

"Better than it was."

"And what about… everything else?"

A group of joggers pass by, so he's careful not to mention classified information – like the Blood of Sokar or its effects – but Jack picks up on his meaning.

"I'm fine."

Jacob nods as he reads between the lines. He knows it's as much discussion as he's going to get on the subject, so he lets it drop for the moment.

"Dad?"

He glances up to see Sam, Daniel and Teal'c have stopped walking. When he and Jack reach them, Sam tilts her head to the side.

"Do you want an ice cream?"

He follows her gaze to the small kiosk a few meters away.

"They're on me," he grins. "You go on ahead and find some seats. Jack can help me here."

He ignores the surprised look the man in question sends him and he also chooses to ignore the wary look Sam throws in his direction. When Jack finally shrugs in agreement and says "sure", he waves the others away.

They approach the kiosk when Jacob decides to broach the topic of Netu again.

"Sam's had a couple of nightmares," he admits as he watches his daughter sit down on one of the park benches.

Even with his shades, Jacob can feel Jack's sharp gaze on him. "She OK?"

"She will be," he hedges. "Jolinar's just dredged a few things up, I think."

"Yeah, well, you'll need to have a chat with Marty about that," Jack shoots back as they join the queue.

"Oh. Don't think I haven't already."

This time he doesn't ignore the surprise on the man's face and he smiles wryly. "What? You think I was just going to let it go?"

"I don't –"

"Regardless of the – outcome," he interrupts, as a man walks by with a dog, "He risked Sam's life. All of your lives."

"We got you back."

They move along the line and Jacob shrugs. "Martouf – Marty," he quickly corrects, "was told in no uncertain terms, to contact you."

"Why?"

"Because it was so dangerous."

"So, he went against your orders?"

"Yeah."

He hears a low whistle escape Jack's lips, right before he sighs. "Look, Jacob –"

"Would you have done it?"

They are next in line and Jack shoves his hands into the pockets of his jeans.

"Done what?" He asks carefully as he pretends to read the board above his head, detailing the different flavors of ice cream served.

"Ignored my orders."

He takes a deep breath and shrugs. "If I thought there was the slightest chance of rescuing you... yeah."

"And what about Sam?"

"What about her?"

"Would you have risked her life?"

"No," he responds immediately, confidently. "But this is Carter we're talking about and I'd have a hell of a fight on my hands trying to make her sit out of a rescue mission for her own father."

Despite the seriousness of the conversation, Jacob chuckles. "Well, for future reference. Don't come rescuing me."

"For future reference," Jack parrots. "Let's hope we don't have to."

He's wondering how to phrase his next question when another voice interrupts.

"What can I get you, Sirs?"

They both look up to see the server smiling widely at them, but it's Jacob who recovers first. "Five ice creams please – with the works."

The server nods and turns away, only for Jack to stop him. He leans an elbow on the ledge of the kiosk and removes his shades. "Make it four ice creams and a frozen yogurt."

Jacob stares at him, but he refuses to meet his gaze. He just shrugs in response, right before he says, "Trust me."

The two men remain silent as they wait for their order and true to his word, Jacob pays for the ice creams – and frozen yogurt. They're making their way back to the others when he slows his pace and turns to face Jack.

"I do trust you, you know."

"Oh. Uh, with... what?" He frowns.

"My daughter."

Jack's eyebrows shoot up. "I – I don't – we're not – uh –"

"I trust you to look after her in the field," Jacob clarifies, but he hides a grin when his accompanying pointed look makes his companion squirm for a moment. "It's hard – being away so much and not knowing what she's getting up to," he adds. "But with you by her side... it makes me feel better."

He holds the colonel's gaze and sees a range of emotions flicker through his eyes.

"You have my word," he answers earnestly.

Happy with the response, Jacob continues to walk, not waiting for Jack to catch up. When he reaches the rest of the group, he passes one ice cream to Teal'c, another to Daniel and he's just about to hand the last one to Sam when the pot of frozen yogurt appears in his line of sight.

He observes silently as his daughter takes the sweet treat from Jack, and his curiosity turns to surprise when her face brightens and she throws her commanding officer a fully-fledged smile. When he glances over, Jack's already watching at him.

"Carter prefers the frozen yogurt."

"Mhmm," she nods around a mouthful of her dessert. "I like the taste better."

She throws another grin at the colonel before she returns her attention to the yogurt.

"I didn't know that," Jacob admits.

He sees the slightest smirk twist Jack's lips.

"Don't worry, Carter," he says as he steps forward to claim the free seat beside her, while his eyes, dark and intense, focus on Jacob. "I've got your back."

His own ice cream forgotten, Jacob watches the two officers as they sit side-by-side and share a smile. He doesn't know if a private joke is the cause, or whether it's just because they're happy, but he thinks he should be more concerned by their behavior than he actually is.

Instead, he feels a strange sort of contentment as he realizes that he really doesn't need to worry. As long as Jack O'Neill is by his daughter's side, the man will do everything in his power to keep her safe and to always bring her home.


	39. A Smile And A Wave

**Author's Note: Written for '** **Wave All Your Fingers At Your Neighbors Day' (7 February) which is – AND I QUOTE – "the day that is all about fresh beginnings. Instead of getting…or giving… that one fingered wave as you walk by to get in the car, today open that hand and wiggle all your fingers as you wave."** **Episode tag for season 6 'Paradise Lost'.**

* * *

Jack got to his feet and watched the Tok'ra ship turn around and descend before it landed smoothly just outside of their makeshift camp. It took a few minutes, but then the door to the ship retracted and Jack had to shield his eyes against the sun to see who, exactly, his rescuer was. He grinned widely and after checking on Maybourne, headed towards the newcomer.

"Jacob," he greeted as he grabbed the man's outstretched hand and pulled him closer to slap him on the back. "I've never been so glad to see you."

"It's good to see you too, Jack," he chuckled as his hand clamped down on the colonel's shoulder and gave it a squeeze. "Where's Maybourne?"

"He's... resting," Jack offered, but when Jacob eyed him warily, he knew his amusement had given him away. "I shot him."

"What?"

"Long story," he shrugged. "But one I'll happily share on the way home."

"Anxious to leave?"

"Oh, you have no idea." He paused and then added, "How'd you find us?"

"You have your team to thank for that."

A grin appeared as pride swelled in his chest. He knew SG-1 would find him – they always did – but he'd missed them – one person more so than the others if he was being honest – and now he wanted nothing more than to see his friends. His happiness soon abated, however, and he frowned.

"Where are they?"

Jacob went to answer, but appeared to change his mind at the last second. Instead, he pointed over Jack's shoulder and started to head in that direction.

"I'm just going to check on –"

His way was swiftly blocked by the colonel taking a step to his left.

"What's going on?"

Jacob sighed heavily. "Are you mad at Sam?"

Jack's frown deepened. _"What?"_

"She blames herself for this whole mess and –"

"The only person at fault here is Maybourne – and possibly me because I trusted him in the first place," he grumbled. "But Carter? No."

"That's what I told her." With a resigned nod, Jacob pulled a radio from his tunic and lifted it to his mouth. "It's safe to come out now."

He smirked at the confusion on Jack's face, and with a final pat on his shoulder, walked towards the campsite. "I'll just go and collect our friend over here," he yelled back. "We should be ready to head out in ten."

Jack watched him leave and then he felt it. The familiar prickle at the back of his neck that told him he was being watched. He spun on his heel and froze. Standing in the doorway of the ship, in BDU pants and a tight black t-shirt, was the one person he'd missed the most during his stint on this piss poor excuse of a planet.

He wasn't sure if it was the relief on her face as their eyes met and she smiled at him, or the way she lifted her right hand and wiggled her fingers at him as she waved, but he quickly made his way towards her. He stopped just a few feet from Sam and let his gaze roam over her face. He saw the doubt and anxiousness in her eyes, but she honestly had nothing to be sorry for. He was just so happy to see her, that his grin resurfaced.

"C'mere," he said as he slung an arm around her shoulders and pulled her tight against him. He felt her arms snake around his waist. "I missed you," he whispered before he buried his face against her neck.

He felt her turn her face slightly towards him. "I missed you, too," she whispered and Jack tightened his hold as her breath tickled the sensitive spot just behind his ear. "Welcome home, Jack," she added, right before her lips pressed against his skin.

* * *

 **Not a great selection of holidays to choose from again… apologies if it's out of character!**


	40. Flight Of Fancy

**Author's Note: Written for 'Kite Flying Day' (8 February). A little missing scene for season 1 'The Torment of Tantalus'.**

* * *

"I don't know what I expected," Catherine says with a shake of her head, and Jack winces when he catches her sad expression because – despite the circumstances – her love for Ernest Littlefield hasn't diminished. "I mean, I can't believe he's right here. Light years away, but still so close all this time – _alive._ "

However, Jack has never excelled at the whole comforting thing, so when Captain Carter sits down next to her, he decides to let her handle the situation while he hovers nearby.

"I think he's probably having a little trouble dealing with it, too," she offers quietly.

"I felt like a schoolgirl," Catherine admits. "My heart was beating faster than when I came through the gate."

When she starts to laugh, Jack he glances over and sees her nudge Sam's arm. "You think you're old and wise."

"I – I don't think the heart ever grows old."

At Sam's reply, Jack lets his gaze shift and notices the soft smile that curves her lips.

"I can't even fathom what he's been through," the older woman sighs. "Such a long time."

Without warning, Carter meets his eye from the across the room, before averting her gaze. The interaction only lasts a second, but he feels tendrils of warmth start a slow burn in his chest and he quickly goes back to studying the castle ruins.

"I don't even know that man."

A heavy silence falls before Sam nudges her knee. "Why don't you go and talk to him?"

Jack chooses that moment to make his way towards them but he feels like an intruder as he watches Catherine envelope Sam in a tight hug. When she gets to her feet, she pats Jack on the arm before she turns and leaves to find her estranged fiancé. With a fond smile, he drops down onto the steps beside his teammate, his shoulder brushing against hers.

"Do you think they'll make up?"

Sam turns and studies him for a moment before she answers. "Yeah, I do."

"Didn't peg you for such a hopeless romantic, Carter," he grins, knocking her shoulder gently with his own.

"There's a lot about me you don't know, sir."

Their gaze meets again as she smiles and Jack swears that something fundamental inside him shifts. He imagines it's similar to the way tectonic plates slide against each other, right before the pressure starts to build beneath the surface and a natural disaster is imminent. He reads National Geographic.

A roll of thunder is heard in the distance and the moment is broken, and Jack is secretly glad because he doesn't know what the hell just happened, but suddenly he's left wondering if Samantha Carter is going to be his own kind of personal catastrophe. He swallows hard and decides it's time to go and round up the rest of the group.

As it turns out, their plan to just simply gate back home with Ernest doesn't work out when they discover the DHD is damaged, but Jack stamp downs on his initial panic because Carter's the expert on the Stargate and if anyone can figure out a way to get them all home, it's her. His faith in her abilities is unwavering – which truly terrifies him as he's never been willing, or able, to fully put his life in somebody else's hands before. But with Sam, he wouldn't hesitate. He trusts her, completely.

Unwittingly, he searches her out in the main room of the castle but when he sees her, he notices the dust and debris falling from a spot on the ceiling just to her left. He gets a strange feeling in his gut and stands beside her as she works, his hand resting next to hers on the DHD.

"Uh, you wanna pick up the pace on this a little bit?"

He watches her connect the wires inside the device and turns to see the gate powering up, the chevrons glowing brightly. But no sooner does Catherine utter a relived "you did it", are they plunged into darkness again when the gate shuts down. He's just about to ask Carter what happened when he hears a creak above their heads and he looks up.

There's barely enough time to grab her vest and pull her down the stairs.

He hears himself yell for Teal'c and Catherine to get back, right before he and Sam tumble down the stairs and the ceiling caves in. Recovering quickly, he slides over to the captain's side, only vaguely aware of the others running towards them.

"Y'alright?" he asks quietly.

She nods and he lets his hand that was resting on her back, trail down her arm as he turns to inspect the damage. He freezes. It doesn't look good and when he makes his way up the steps and finds a gaping hole in the floor where the DHD used to be, his stomach plummets.

"Ah, crap."

* * *

Sometimes Jack hates his job – especially when he has to side with one teammate over another. He understands Daniel's passion towards the fancy alien device, he really does, but his overriding concern now is getting everyone home safe as soon as possible. They are his responsibility and as he casts another glance at the ceiling, he knows the ruins are not going to withstand another hit from the storm.

But nothing happens when Teal'c shoots at the machine and he isn't sure what else they can do, considering the C4 in his pocket would likely blow them all into the ocean. Suddenly, a rumble of thunder echoes loudly around them and flashes of lightning pierce through the gaps in the structure.

"I'm obviously no scientist, but, um… couldn't we use that Ben Franklin thing?"

The words leave his lips before he can stop them and he frowns. But when he risks a look to his left, he finds his uncertainty quickly morphs into surprise when he sees _her_ face light up.

He tries not to think about what that look on her does – or means – for him as the tendrils he felt earlier are now being replaced by tiny little explosions going off in his chest. He can feel his heart stutter and he swallows hard.

Because, just like that, Samantha Carter looks like she wants to kiss him.

* * *

 **So, initially I'd planned to go all Mary Poppins and have a cute scene with Sam, Jack and Cassie (set in season one) but it just felt too forced and… urgh. And then I randomly remembered the 'Benjamin Franklin' reference in ToT – and this was the result.**


	41. Pampered Perusal

**Author's Note: Written for 'Read In The Bathtub Day' (9 February).**

* * *

Jack closed his front door and leaned against it with a sigh. He _really_ hated Washington. Or rather, the politicians and various stuffed shirts that he had to deal with every single day. He let his head rest against the door, looked to the ceiling and wondered – not for the first time – if he could retire yet.

He needed a beer.

With a lot of effort, he pushed himself off the door and headed towards the kitchen, only to pause when he saw a duffle bag at the bottom of the staircase.

"Sam?"

He felt his heart beat quicken but tried not to get his hopes up as he wasn't expecting any visitors for another two weeks. When no answer came, he turned towards the living room, but most of downstairs was in darkness. Placing his briefcase beside the bag, he grinned and took the stairs two at a time.

His bedroom was empty, but he found her in the adjoining bathroom. More specifically, he found her in the bathtub – and completely engrossed in one of her scientific journals. He didn't say anything and instead leaned against the door jamb, and folded his arms over his chest. Happily, he let his gaze roam; from the way the water made her skin look even more sleek and smooth than usual, or the way the bubbles on the surface strategically covered parts of her body, or –

"Are you just going to stand there all night?"

Her attention didn't waver from the journal but Jack caught the smile on her lips. With another grin, he pushed off the frame and walked towards her. He rested a hand on the edge of the tub and crouched down to place a kiss in her hair.

"Whatcha doin'?" He murmured as he pressed his lips to a spot behind her ear.

"Reading."

"Mhmm." He heard her sharp intake of breath and grinned against her neck before he placed a kiss there too.

"I was thinking more along the lines of here. In my house," he said, as he dropped to his knees and rested his forearms on the tub's edge. "Not that I'm complaining, mind you," he drawled as he let the fingers of one hand swirl the water around and disturb some of the bubbles.

"Cam is sick, so we were taken off the mission rota," she shrugged as she turned a page. "So, I decided to take some leave."

"And come to Washington?"

"To _you_ ," she corrected, as she finally looked away from her reading and met his gaze. "I thought I'd surprise you."

"It's a hell of a surprise."

"A good one?"

"Oh yeah," he smirked as he leaned closer.

Their lips met and what he planned on being a sensual kiss quickly escalated into one that was hot and heavy. The fingers of one hand threaded through her hair as he deepened the kiss, while the other hand reached out to grab the journal, which was just as well when Sam suddenly let it fall from her hands. Without breaking the kiss, Jack placed the magazine on the floor and let his other hand cup the side of Sam's face. He wasn't sure how long they kissed, but it was only when he felt her fingers dig into his arm, that he slowed the kiss and took his time to touch and tease her. He rested his forehead against hers as they tried to catch their breath.

"Sorry," he heard her mumble moments later and when he followed her gaze, he saw the wet outline of a handprint on his service dress jacket, but what really intrigued him was the blush that was now on Sam's face.

He was just about to ask her about it, when she broke the silence.

"Have you eaten?"

Instinctively, Jack flicked his gaze along the length of the tub before he looked back at Sam, his lips twitching. "Not yet." And when he caught the roll of her eyes, he chuckled. "Want me to order something in?"

"Pizza?"

With a nod, he braced his hands on the tub to push himself to his feet, only for Sam's hand to shoot out and grab onto his arm.

"Where are you going?"

He frowned slightly at her question. "Aren't you hungry?"

This time, it was Sam who let her gaze travel and a wicked gleam appeared in her eye.

"Ya sure, ya betcha," she whispered right before she grabbed his tie, pulled him towards her and kissed him.


	42. Wedded Bliss

**Author's Note: Written for 'World Marriage Day' (10 February).**

* * *

Jack slowed his pace as he made his way towards the dock and smiled at the sight. The evening sun was low and had thrown the sky into a myriad of red and orange tones which reflected brightly on the smooth surface of the pond. Yet, regardless of the times he'd witnessed the breathtaking view, it was something completely different that took his breath away. For, standing at the water's edge, perfectly silhouetted against nature's canvas, was Samantha Carter. Her back was to him and Jack knew she was lost in thoughts. Even when a light breeze swirled and caused her white dress to billow around her legs, she didn't move. His eyes never left her, until he came to a stop by her side and he followed her gaze across the water.

"Everything OK?"

He glanced to his right as Sam turned towards him, a smile on her face.

"Everything is perfect – more than perfect," she said, stepping closer.

At the same time, Jack's hands went to her hips, then slid to rest on the small of her back. Their lips met in a soft kiss before Sam placed her left hand on Jack's chest and leaned back slightly. Her eyes were involuntarily drawn to her hand, where a gold band now glinted in the sunlight.

"I can't believe we finally made it," she whispered as her eyes lingered on the ring. "It's almost – it's like we waited so long, it doesn't seem real," she added, a flush of embarrassment creeping onto her face.

Slowly, Jack grinned and held up his left hand and looked at the matching gold band on his ring finger.

"Something tells me this is all real, Sam."

"Eight years in the waiting," she smiled.

"It was worth the wait," he murmured. "Believe me."

"Would you change anything?"

"To get to where we are now?"

At Sam's nod, he returned his hand to her back, pulled her close and leaned in, his lips brushing hers as he spoke.

"No. Not a single damn thing."

He closed the distance between them then, and enjoyed the taste and feel of his wife's lips against his. He smiled at the thought.

 _Wife._ _  
_  
Samantha Carter was now his wife.

 _His._

After all this time.

He'd told the truth when he said he wouldn't change a thing.

Eight years. Four promotions. Two people.

Everything they had sacrificed. Everything they had fought for.

It had brought them to this point. _Together._

And Jack never expected it to feel so damn good.


	43. The Place Where Fire And Water Meet

**Author's Note: Written for 'White Shirt Day' (11 February). Set in The Changeling universe.**

* * *

Samantha Carter has never been one to fall for a man in uniform, but she'd be lying if she said she hasn't noticed how nicely the Chief wears his.

She doesn't remember when, exactly, she notices just how good he looks, but in years to come, she'll happily wager that it was the first time they met.

Even if they don't get off to the best start.

It's the way he makes a comment about her background in engineering, but it sounds dismissive and it pisses her off. So, naturally, she fires back a little speech about reproductive organs. She smiles to herself when the retort silences him for a few seconds before he grins at her, but Sam doesn't want to let the issue drop. She wants more. She wants to push him to see what really makes him tick. It's an urge she can't explain, nor is she sure she wants to.

In the end, she challenges him to an arm wrestle and he confidently accepts.

She tries not to focus on the way the muscles in his arm flex and bulge underneath his white shirt.

* * *

The first time Sam starts to feel something that possibly, almost definitely, is not just a crush on her superior officer, comes during their second year together in the job.

The crew are called out to a house fire and while they manage to get everyone out safely, protocol dictates that Sam is the last to leave, but as she makes her way out of the building, part of the roof collapses and traps her inside. It's the last thing she remembers, before she wakes up to the unwelcomely familiar smell of antiseptic and slowly opens to eyes to confirm that she's in the hospital. She feels hot and sticky and uncomfortable, and her brain feels a little fuzzy. The sensation brings a wave of nausea and she frantically glances around for a call button, when she hears his voice.

"Welcome back, sleepyhead."

She cranes her neck and freezes at the sight. The chief is lying on the bed opposite hers, his legs stretched out towards her and crossed at the ankles. He's on his side, his elbow and hip taking his weight and there's a smile playing about his lips, but Sam blinks hard and she swears the look is at odds with how dark his eyes appear. Her gaze roams over his hair, his tanned skin, the white shirt that has pulled and twisted from his position on the bed, the way his fingers tease the corner of the magazine he was pretending to read –

"How are you feeling?"

"Good," she manages to croak, but his expression tells her that he believes her answer as much as she does.

Sam swallows hard and averts her gaze.

"Get some rest, captain."

T drops by later to see her and accidentally lets slip that the chief broke cover to pull her from the burning wreckage. The revelation ignites a fire in her chest that has nothing to do with the one she's just faced.

* * *

It's in their third year of working together when Sam gets a better glimpse into the man that lurks underneath the hardened exterior.

"Captain? There's a call for you in the Chief's office. He says it's urgent."

Sam frowns at the Probie's relayed message and turns in her seat to glance at the upper level of the station. She sees the chief looking down at her from the doorway of his office. His eyes are dark and whilst she thinks he's trying to go for unreadable, she sees the tinge of sadness in his expression.

"On your feet, Carter. Let's go," he orders softly before he disappears back into his office and her stomach plummets.

It turns out her father's cancer has advanced to a level none of them are expecting and she's still in a daze when she hangs up the phone, but the chief offers to drive her to the hospital. When she remains sitting, he gently wraps a hand around her arm and pulls her to her feet.

"Sam."

She looks at him and sees concern and another unidentified emotion flare in his eyes.

"I'll meet you out front in five," he promises.

He stays with her for the rest of the afternoon, and then all through the night and into the early morning, helping take turns to keep vigil over her father.

She is waiting outside her father's hospital room when the chief finds her for the final time that morning and lowers himself gently into the empty chair beside her.

His shoulder and upper arm presses against hers as he mirrors her position, his elbows resting on his knees, hands clasped tightly together. In a way Sam doesn't fully understand, the action brings her comfort, and a fresh round of tears bubbling to the surface. But for the first time since she's received the news about her father's condition, she feels safe. Like she's not about to fall apart at the realization that she is minutes away from losing her dad.

The man sitting to her right is her rock; grounding her and anchoring her back to the present. She thinks it should grate on her nerves, but it doesn't. She thinks it should make her want to face this alone and not have to rely on anybody else, to have them see her weak and upset, but it doesn't. Instead, she finds herself wanting him to be the only one near her in her father's final moments.

"You OK?"

His voice is gentle and caring and she nods as she tries to hold back the tears.

"Actually, I'm fine. Good, even. Strange as that sounds," she shrugs. "I thought I lost him three years ago – it's why I applied for a transfer here – to be closer to him," she explains, her voice thick with emotion. "We've been closer than we ever were my whole life. In a way, this job gave me the father I never thought I'd know."

Her gaze flickers to the chief and he's watching her with an intensity she isn't prepared for.

"C'mere."

He puts his arm around her, her own hand reaching up to grab his and Sam takes a deep breath, inhaling his scent.

"Thank you, Chief."

"For what?" He asks, his voice rumbling deep in his chest as he shifts closer.

"For being here for me."

"Always," he whispers.

She turns her head to look up at him and an array of questions flood her mind as he stares at her, but before she gives voice to any of them, the door to her father's room opens and a nurse appears.

"Miss Carter?"

The chief squeezes her hand as she goes to say goodbye to her father.

An hour later, when the chief offers to drive her home, she accepts, but she quickly discovers she doesn't want to be alone. So, she tries to sneak into the station, wanting the familiar company of her friends – her team – nearby, even if she does decide to hide away in the far corner of the locker room.

It takes him just twenty minutes to track her down, but then he surprises her. He doesn't reprimand her, or order her to leave. He simply pushes himself away from one of the lockers where he's been observing her in the shadows, and crosses to where she's sitting on the floor. Silently, he folds himself into the small space to her left, and just like he had hours earlier, slings an arm over her shoulders and pulls her close.

"C'mere."

She finally feels safe enough to let her tears fall.

When she pulls herself together over an hour later, he glances at the make-up stains she's left on his pristine white shirt. She goes to apologize, but hesitates when she catches the inscrutable look on his face.

Later, he changes out of the shirt, but instead of throwing it away, he keeps it stored in the bottom of his locker.

* * *

Sam's fourth year as part of Chief O'Neill's team doesn't start quietly. During the last two weeks of July, the crew has a run of tough call outs – both in terms of the rescues and the number of fatalities they seem to be coming across.

They all really need to blow off some steam, which isn't easy to do when they're still on duty, so someone – Sam reckons it's T – decides a few practical jokes are in order. It's nothing harmful; just ridiculous things like duct taping an air horn to the underside of somebody's chair, or the classic 'stapler in the Jell-O' stunt, but then someone – Sam reckons it's Probie – accidentally targets the chief.

The crew are out in the station yard enjoying the sunshine when T throws a cup of water at Probie. So, he retaliates – and it doesn't take long for the rest of the team to get involved. But then the chief steps out into the yard, just as Probie lets go of a bucket full of water.

Sam only sees him when he turns and stops at the door of the station. His perfect silhouette contrasts with the bright afternoon sun and it takes her a few seconds to realize that the chief is soaked to the skin and his white shirt is clinging oh-so-nicely to every muscle in his upper body, while his hair is sticking out at odd angles, as if he's ran his hand through it several times already.

The water streams down his clothes – and body – before it ends in a pool around his feet. And as Sam's lips part slightly, she finds she can't look away. Worse, the chief doesn't make any effort to either. She isn't quite sure how long they stare at each other; their only interruption the sound of water pattering onto the ground.

* * *

As Sam makes her way along the deserted hospital corridor, she realizes this is the first time in five years that the roles have been reversed. It's the Chief who occupies one of the beds, while it's her turn to be the concerned... _colleague._ Colleague, she tells herself firmly.

She lightly knocks on the door, but there's no answer, so she peeks inside the room to find him sleeping. A part of her knows she should leave and let him rest, but she needs to see once more that he is alive.

She was by his side when he'd covered his white shirt with the well-worn fire jacket and quickly geared up and made his way into inferno, insisting that he go into the building first, rather than her.

 _As long as you're under my command, you're my responsibility,_ he'd said, when she'd been about to protest.

Seconds later, she was forced to watch helpless as an explosion to their right sent the Chief flying into the air. He didn't move, and Sam was terrified that he'd been too close to the blast.

"I'm fine, Captain."

His groggy voice breaks through her reminiscing and she jumps, her cheeks reddening, so she's thankful that he's still got his eyes closed.

"When you were lying there," she chokes out suddenly. "I just wanted to say... I'm really glad you're okay."

A tear escapes her and when the chief holds out a hand, she's by his side in two steps. She squeezes tightly and lets her head fall to his shoulder as relief floods her.

"You're okay, Jack," she repeats, her voice barely above a whisper, but she feels his hand squeeze hers in response.

"Yeah, I'm okay."

He doesn't move, but Sam turns slightly and lets her lips press gently against his neck.

Later, she wakes up to find someone's pulled her up a chair and her head is resting on the bed, their hands still firmly clasped together.

* * *

Six years.

They've played with fire for six years, and Sam isn't sure she's ready for the burn.

She's at home, just about to settle down with her first beer of the evening when there's a sharp rap at the door and she opens it to find the chief standing there, still in his uniform.

The anger he's been feeling all day, ever since she disobeyed his orders at a crash site, is still plain to see in his eyes. She bites back a sigh and silently stands aside to let him in. He follows her into the living room and she sits down on the couch, while he remains standing, his hands shoved deep into his pockets.

"I just want you to tell me one thing."

She straightens and waits.

"What the fuck were you thinking?"

She resists a sarcastic retort but by the time she thinks of a more acceptable answer, the chief is pacing up and down her living room, his voice rapidly rising as he gesticulates widely with his hands.

"I ordered you out of there."

"You saw that little girl, Chief. She regained consciousness just as you gave the call. I was _not_ going to leave her."

"That was not your decision to make."

"The hell it was," she shouts. " _I_ was the one by the car when she woke up. _I_ was the one she cried out to for help."

"We could have made the area safe before you got her out of the car. It's protocol."

"It would have been too late," she says, getting to her feet and moving towards him. "She's alive because I did my job."

His voice rises. "You had _one_ job, Captain. That was it – and it didn't involve you playing the hero without any backup."

"Is that what you really think?"

"You could have been killed, Sam!"

And then, in the deafening silence, it hits her. Why he is acting the way he is. His anger is borne out of fear. It wasn't because she disobeyed his order, it was because she did exactly what he would have in the same situation and he'd almost come so close to losing her but been helpless to stop it.

She's frozen to the spot as she watches him take one, two steps closer, his face now just inches from hers.

"Don't ever do it again," he murmurs, right before his lips press against hers.

She responds immediately and when his tongue darts out and teases her lips, she gasps. It's all he needs to deepen the kiss and before Sam can stop herself, she's clinging onto him, the fingers of one hand playing with the hair at the nape of his neck while the other hand falls to his chest. When the chief pushes her against the wall hard and pins her there with his hips, a low moan escapes and her hands quickly move to his shirt to start undoing the buttons. She's vaguely aware of the notion that they shouldn't be doing this, but all she really wants is _him_. A whimper leaves her as he tears his lips from hers to find her neck, so she refocuses and pushes his shirt aside and let her fingers trail lightly down his chest, her nails scratching lightly at his skin. She grins as his muscles twitch under her touch and he tries to free his arms of his shirt but Sam grabs a hold of the material, bunches it between her fingers and shakes her head.

"No," she pants.

"No?" He repeats, raising a brow in surprise, but there's a smirk shaping his lips.

"No," she confirms. "The shirt stays on."

Later that night, she wakes up to find his arm draped over her waist, right before he pulls her closer and presses a kiss to her temple.

* * *

 **This is not the story I had planned for this holiday at all, but a happy, cheery story just wouldn't come after I heard the news of Carmen Argenziano's passing.** **This fic entry is especially for agrainne24. I'm sorry it's not quite the idea we discussed, but I hope it's still okay. Xx**


	44. The Alien Made Me Do It

**Author's Note: Written for 'Extraterrestrial Culture Day' (12 February). I feel like I should add that Thor does not make an appearance… Rather this is a teeny, tiny missing scene for Urgo.**

* * *

" _Please!_ I'm begging you."

"No."

"How about I –"

"Nope."

"But –"

"Ahhh! Ah. What part of _no_ , don't you understand?"

Urgo was just about to respond when the colonel held up a finger in warning and glared. Satisfied that their super annoying alien entity would stay quiet, Jack turned back to his locker.

"Sammy?"

Jack closed his eyes.

"Come on, Sam. I can –"

" _Hey!_ You leave Carter out of this," he snapped, then rolled his eyes when Urgo simply pouted in response.

With more force than needed, Jack grabbed his jacket and slammed his locker shut. He was just minutes away from returning to P4X-884 and saying goodbye to the intruder forever.

"Is Maui really that sandy?"

The colonel's arm was half inside his jacket when he froze at the question. Slowly, he turned to face Urgo, only to discover Daniel and Teal'c had made a hasty retreat from the locker room. Sam remained as she tried, and failed, miserably to hide her smile.

" _What?_ "

"Long, white, sandy beaches. Crystal clear waters. Palm trees stretching as far as the eye can see," Urgo dreamily supplied.

"I don't know," Jack answered as he cleared his throat uncomfortably. "I've never been."

He finished putting on his jacket and fastened the zipper when the silence was broken again.

"But you seem to know it well. You've been wishing you were there all day –"

"Urgo."

"Just sitting on the sand –"

 _"Urgo,"_ Jack warned."

"And Sam is there too! And she's wearing –"

 _"Urgo!"_

A choked sound to his left caught his attention and his gaze flew to Sam's but Jack couldn't decide if he was relieved or disappointed at the fact that she looked more bemused than anything else. He turned back to the source of his current discomfort and sighed heavily.

"You ready to go, Carter?"

"Yes, sir," she nodded as she closed her locker.

"Good. The sooner we get rid of him, the better."

Sam threw him a sympathetic smile, right before Urgo piped up once more.

"Oh! Now that hurts," he retorted dramatically, a hand splayed over his chest. "And I hadn't even shared the best part."

"Are you sure I can't shoot him?"

"No, sir. You can't."

"Damn."

Jack pulled a face, then glanced towards his second and with a gesture towards the door, let her leave first. Unfortunately, Sam was just about to step into the corridor when the question Jack had been dreading, was finally uttered.

"Why do you like little black bikinis so much?"

Involuntarily, the colonel's gaze once again snapped to his major, while his mouth opened and closed like a fish as he fumbled for something to say.

"I mean, I know they're little –"

"Urgo, I mean it. Don't –"

"But it's not like you're even paying attention because –"

"You are such a sh–"

"You're too busy kissing Sam."

The resulting silence was deafening and, in that moment, Jack would quite happily have faced an entire army of Jaffa, rather than witness Carter's reaction. The only silver lining was that she would have been the only other person to hear Urgo's traitorous words.

Holding his breath, Jack slowly looked to the woman in question – and wasn't surprised by her shocked expression. What did surprise him, however, was the deep shade of red that stained her cheeks and spread down her neck before it disappeared –

He shook his head to get rid of those thoughts.

"Carter, I – ah – uh…"

"Yes? Sir?"

He caught the strange tone in her voice but refused to dwell.

"I'm currently under the influence of alien technology."


	45. What's In A Name?

**Author's Note: Written for 'Get A Different Name Day' (13 February). This fic kinda went off on its own little tangent…**

* * *

"O'Neill."

Still half-asleep, Jack held the phone to his ear and bit back a sigh as he listened to a Lieutenant Jones explain – at 0230 on a Saturday morning – how the latest update to the dialing program had caused an unexpected power surge and, as a result, all of the systems were now off-line.

When silence fell over the phone, Jack realized the officer had finished his little speech and was probably waiting for an answer – but he didn't have one to give. He _really_ wasn't the person to call.

He'd officially retired from the Stargate Program – and the Air Force – for the final time, three days previously. So, he could understand the confusion that had possibly led to the lieutenant calling him at his home in Colorado Springs. After all, his retirement was still fresh and very few people were actually aware of it. But one of his final acts of duty had been to send a memo to all personnel stationed at the SGC, informing them that their new commanding officer was, from next week, going to be General O'Neill.

It just wasn't him.

"Hang on," he grumbled.

With his free hand, he gently nudged his wife's shoulder and when she stirred, he held the phone out.

"It's for you."

She sighed but took it from him.

"O'Neill."

Jack grinned at the sound of his last name as it left her lips; just like he had every time over the past three days when she'd answered her phone in the same way. It was another reminder that she was finally his.

After years and years of sacrifices, and putting duty and honor before love, they were now free of the rules and regulations that had dominated their lives for so long.

Now, they were able to be together as husband and wife.

He closed his eyes and listened as Sam gave instructions to the young officer over the phone, before asking if they had things under control. When he heard her end the call a couple of minutes later, he threw one arm over his head, while the other snaked around Sam's shoulders and pulled her close.

"Everything OK?"

He felt her nod against his chest and he gave her a squeeze.

"Yeah. Go back to sleep, Jack," she whispered as she twisted her head slightly and kissed his cheek.

"Yes, ma'am," he grinned, deftly catching her hand as she poked him on the arm.

Without missing a beat, he placed a kiss on the inside of her wrist and let their hands fall to his chest.

He'd taken retirement. She'd taken his last name. And it sounded like music to Jack's ears.


	46. Divided We Fall

**Author's Note: Written for 'Donor Day' (14 February).**

* * *

It had been building for a while. This _thing_ between them.

A little over a year to be exact – ever since their return from Hathor's compound.

They'd never spoken of the moment they had shared in the corridor as they hid from her Jaffa. It wasn't like it was something they'd planned. It just… _happened._

Still, Jack knew better. He should have been paying more attention. Instead, he had tried to ignore the feelings he had towards his second-in-command and then, when that was no longer possible, deny them. It was still easier than facing the truth.

Or so he thought.

Because only a few hours ago – thanks in no small part, to Anise and her Za'tarc detector – his ignorance had come back to bite him in the ass.

Sam's whispered confession had played over and over in his mind ever since and every time it sent a jolt of electricity through him.

He'd had his suspicions for a while that she had feelings for him, but he didn't realize how strong those feelings were until their last mission when they'd been separated by a force shield. Yet, even armed with the knowledge, nothing could have prepared him for the moment he heard the confession leave her lips.

Jack had been left overwhelmed and he wondered, not for the first time, just when – and how – Sam had managed to become such an integral part of his life.

A part so important, so deeply rooted, in his everyday routine that he could no longer imagine her being anywhere else but by his side.

However, things were different now, because he _knew._

He knew how she felt about him, and she knew how he felt about her.

Sam was no longer his teammate or his friend.

She was his life.

But there wasn't anything they could do for now. The rules and regulations still existed. The war with the Goa'uld still raged on around them. The commitment and honor they held for their job still remained.

So, in order for them to stay together, they needed to be apart.

 _Divide and conquer._

For now, Jack reckoned it was a small price to pay, even though he knew it wouldn't be easy.

Because without him even realizing, he had given Samantha Carter his heart and soul, and she'd willingly given hers in return.

* * *

 **Happy Valentine's Day to all of you lovely, lovely people!**


	47. Table For Two

**Author's Note: Written for 'No One Eats Alone Day' (15 February). I'm really sorry if this entry is terrible. I kind of had to rush to put it together because my friends decided to throw me an (early) surprise birthday party this evening, so the time I'd planned to spend writing... didn't happen.**

* * *

Jack stares at the item on his plate that's masquerading as a slice of pecan pie with disgust, but it's still better than the alternative of blue Jell-O, so he sets it on his tray and hopes his coffee will hide the taste.

Casting an eye around the commissary, he sees Kawalsky and Ferretti at a table to his left, talking away in hushed tones with the odd raucous laughter thrown in. The sight of the two men, full of excitement and nerves and the buzz of returning to Abydos, makes him smile because it's only now that he's been recalled to the SGC, that he's realizing how much he's missed his friends.

He starts to make his way over but hesitates when he sees Ferretti nod at something in the opposite corner of the room, right before Kawalsky glances over his shoulder and shakes his head. Jack follows the major's gaze and involuntarily straightens when he finds Captain Carter sitting by herself. Her back is to them and she is unaware that she's the point of interest for the other members of the team.

The discovery settles uneasily on Jack's chest. For one, he doesn't like the fact that his team is already showing signs of segregation. Whether they see eye-to-eye or not is irrelevant to him for now. He is relying on them all to have each other's backs during the mission. And the fact that they are an hour away from stepping through the gate into an entirely unknown situation, yet they aren't sitting around the same table having a chat and a meal together in a virtually empty mess hall, tells him their decision to eat separately is an entirely intentional one.

He shifts slightly and lets his attention fall back to his old teammates and grimaces. He has a lot of time and respect for them both, he really does, but he doesn't have as much time for their boyish antics. With a sigh, he heads in their direction and stops at the table.

"Gentlemen," he greets, glancing from Ferretti to Kawalsky as he gives them an inscrutable look.

"Jack," Charlie replies easily "Take a seat."

"Nah, I'm good. You both ready for the mission?"

"Yes, sir," chips in Ferretti, before Kawalsky starts to chuckle. " _We're_ looking forward to it anyway."

Jack's brows crease in confusion. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"Nothing," Charlie says, holding up a hand, then gestures with his head towards Captain Carter. "I just hope the good captain-doctor knows what she's getting into," he smirks.

"I'm sure Samantha is more than able to handle it," he replies.

Because, he's quickly discovered that Samantha Carter is more than able to handle anything that's thrown at her. After their initial briefing, Jack had decided to pull up the captain's file. It made for impressive reading, but he also had to admit that Carter was telling the truth about her work with the Stargate Program. She had been working on the gate's technology for two years alongside Catherine Langford, before he and Daniel had gone to Abydos. So, technically, the captain was right. She _should_ have joined them on that mission.

However, shortly before they were due to ship out, West's old-fashioned – and rather chauvinistic – attitude reached a whole new level which resulted in him telling Carter that her services were no longer required.

And it was purely because she was a woman. There's no way any rational-thinking general would have let Sam go.

But, in a purely selfish way, Jack was glad West had blocked her place on his team because he isn't sure he would have wanted her to see the man he was a year ago.

It doesn't mean the entire situation was fair, but he now understands a little better as to why she carries a huge chip on her shoulder.

The sound of Ferretti's voice cuts through his thoughts and he frowns. "Hmm?"

"I said, _'Samantha'_?"

Jack tries to ignore the looks they're sending him, so he shrugs and hopes it's enough to stop their unwanted curiosity, but then he sees their amusement increase and he all but orders them to go and start their mission prep. He watches them leave the mess hall before he turns on his heel and heads towards his final teammate.

"Captain Carter."

"Colonel O'Neill!"

He registers her surprise at his sudden appearance by her side and he quickly holds out a hand to stop her from getting to her feet.

"You don't need to jump to attention every time you see me," he quips as he slides his tray onto the table.

"Sorry, sir."

"And you don't need to 'sir' me to death either," he adds as he waves for her to sit back down. "Mind if I join you?" But he finds himself grinning at the bemused expression on her face as he sits down regardless of her answer.

"So," he starts as she shovels a forkful of pie into his mouth. "All set for Abydos?"

An enthusiastic nod is his answer, right before the captain starts to discuss the more scientific aspects of gate travel. He resists the urge to groan.

"Captain," he interrupts harshly instead, then immediately feels guilty when he sees a flash of hurt in her eyes. He sighs. "Sorry. I just – all that technobabble stuff just goes over my head."

"Technobabble, sir?"

"I believe that's the technical term," he replies as he scoops up another bite of pie and absolutely refuses to acknowledge how nice Sam looks when she smiles.

"Whatever you say, sir."

" _Ah!_ What did I tell you about that?"

"Sorry," she mumbles, returning her attention to her own food.

"Carter, I didn't mean –" He set the fork on the plate and sighs. "Look, I know we didn't get off to the best start, but – can we try again?"

He tries to ignore the way her eyes narrow as she regards him warily.

"With all due respect, sir, why –"

"I know about General West."

He surprises himself with his admission as much as he does the young captain, but when she purses her lips and her eyes, while still a brilliant shade of blue, turn slightly frosty, he realizes he's said the wrong thing. So, he quickly wonders how best to follow-up with his last statement that probably won't get him into any more trouble than he's already in, when he decides he's nothing to lose.

"I think it's important for you to know that I'm not like him."

"Oh." He catches her confusion, right before a shy smile curves her lips. "Thank you, sir. That… that means a lot."

"For the record," he adds, not registering her praise, "Neither's Louis or Charlie. They're just idiots."

He waits while Sam observes him closely, as if she's trying to decide whether or not he is telling the truth. He knows his expression is blank – he's mastered that art over the years – but he sees the moment she comes to a decision.

"Thank you, sir."

They fall silent as they hold each other's gaze but when they remain that way for just a second too long, Jack quickly clears his throat.

"Well, I'll let you get back to… whatever that is you're having for lunch," he says, pulling a face when he looks at her plate.

The expression on Sam's face mirrors his own and she throws him a rueful grin. "It's supposed to be lemon chicken."

"Oy."

"Yeah."

"Word of advice, Captain? Don't have a big lunch," he says as he gets to his feet and lifts his tray. "Gate travel isn't as forgiving as one would think."

"Yes, sir," she says, ducking her head to hide her smile.

"I expect you ready to ship out at fourteen hundred."

"I'll be there, colonel."

"Yes, you will," he murmurs with a smile.

As he leaves the commissary, he can feel Sam's eyes burning into his back, but he doesn't mind the scrutiny. He's now actually looking forward to seeing his captain in action, because something in his gut is telling him that she's going to be pretty special.


	48. Punches And Posies

**Author's Note: Written For 'Do A Grouch A Favor Day' (16 February).**

* * *

Jack hesitated, stopping just around the corner of the gym, and frowned. He could hear the sound of gloves relentlessly pounding against a punch bag.

This seemed such a good idea ten minutes ago, he told himself.

He dragged a hand through his hair and debated turning around and heading back to his office, but then he thought of the mountain of paperwork waiting for him and decided he wasn't ready to face it just yet. Besides, he'd come to see Carter for a specific reason.

Not that he needed to justify his reasons for wanting to see Carter. _No._

He looked down at the item in his hand and smirked as he pushed open the door.

"Oh, Carter," he sing-songed, stepping inside the room.

He let the door swing shut behind him and waited for her reply, but when none came, he realized she hadn't even registered his presence.

"Carter!"

She still failed to answer.

Jack pressed his lips together and glanced around the gym before his gaze rested on Sam. He watched as she continued to beat the life out of the leather-clad punch bag and he winced. He knew, without a doubt, that her hands would be feeling the effects of the abuse she was putting them through, and he sent up a silent prayer that whoever she was mad at, it wasn't him.

He slowly made his way closer.

"Carter?"

When he was met with something between a whimper and a groan as Sam pounded the bag just a little harder, he sighed. He weighed up his options, and when he noticed her rhythm started to falter, he placed the object he'd been holding on the floor and put his plan into action. He moved to the opposite side of the bag and had just reached out to stop its movement when –

"Oomph!"

As the full force of the bag hit him square in the face and chest, Jack found himself sprawled on his back on the gym floor.

 _"CARTER!"_

The next thing he knew, Sam was at his side, looking down at him with a mix of horror and shock.

"Oh, God, sir! I'm so sorry! I didn't see you. I was –" she stopped abruptly, when Jack half-heartedly waved off her apology.

"What the hell, Carter?" he growled as he lifted a hand to his nose, although there was no malice or anger in his question.

"I'm so sorry, sir, really. I –"

"Who pissed you off?" He winced as soon as the words left his mouth as he saw the fire return to Carter's eyes, just like it had back on Maybourne's planet. "Never mind," he mumbled.

"Do you need a hand?"

"Nah, I'm good for a minute," he answered. "Here, take a load off," he added softly, patting the ground beside him.

He regarded Sam closely for a few moments as she followed his order, before he looked away.

"So."

"So?"

"Still mad at Maybourne, huh?"

Sam smiled softly and Jack tried not to focus on the light blush that appeared on her face.

"I'm sorry, sir. I know I should be more professional, but..."

"But?" He prodded gently when she didn't say anything else.

"Wives, sir? _Wives?_ I mean, of all the backward, medieval, sexist... urgh! Wives!" She muttered through gritted teeth.

"Yeah, I don't really get the whole 'wives' thing, either," he admitted, waving a hand around in the air.

"I mean – it's just – it's _Maybourne_ , sir," Sam stated as if it explained everything.

"Hey. You don't need to tell me that."

They both fell into a slightly uncomfortable silence when the general reached up to touch his face again.

"Are you sure you're okay, sir?"

"Yeah, I'm good."

"I really am sorry."

"Relax, Carter. It's not like I'm going to chew you out for striking a superior officer or anything."

Her eyes widened in fear. "Oh, God. General –"

"I said _relax_ , Carter. I know that's an alien concept to you, but you should try it sometime," he responded dryly before he effortlessly jumped to his feet and gave Sam a hand to hers.

"Umm... sir?" Sam asked a moment later.

"Yeah?"

Her gaze darted to his feet. "Are those yours?"

He followed her gaze and pulled a face when he saw what had caught her attention. For there, lying on the floor, was the posy of wildflowers Maybourne had presented to each of them before they'd left his planet.

"Uh..."

He reached for them and held them uneasily in his hands, as if they were about to explode. When he finally met Carter's eye, he could see the slightest hint of hope in her expression while the pink blush on her cheeks had deepened considerably.

"You see, Carter. I, uh..."

"Yes, sir?"

"I thought you could do with cheering up."

She looked at him in surprise.

"And, well, I was checking the date on my calendar earlier –"

"Your calendar?"

"Yeah."

When Sam closed her eyes, Jack bit back a grin. There was only one calendar he owned.

"Sir, when you say, 'calendar' –"

"I mean my '365 Holidays You Never Knew Existed' calendar, yes."

She sighed. "Of course you do."

"Right. So, I noticed that today was February 16th."

"Yes, sir?"

"And, uh… here. These are for you."

He smiled sheepishly as he held the flowers out to her.

"They're beautiful," she whispered.

"You know you've a bunch just like them in your lab?"

Sam smiled as her gaze shifted from the posy to his face. "I know, but it's the thought that counts, isn't it? Thank you."

"Anytime," he answered quietly. He watched Sam close her eyes as she inhaled the scent of the flowers and he really wanted nothing more in that moment than to kiss her.

But he couldn't. He shook his head to try and clear those thoughts away and when Sam looked to him, he hooked a thumb over his shoulder towards the door. "Shall we?"

She nodded in agreement and they silently made their way across the gym when Sam hesitated.

"What was the holiday?"

"Hmm?"

"February 16th. What was the holiday?"

"Oh. Uh... that's not important," he said as she pushed a hand against the door to leave.

 _"Sir?"_

Jack sighed. He'd never understand how Carter could be the only person to make that word have a multitude of meanings. He slowly turned to face her.

"Well, you have been a tad... _peevish_ ever since we got back from Maybourne's planet."

 _"What?"_

"And just remember that you've hit me once already today," he added quickly when he saw her expression change.

"What was the holiday?"

"Trrmmmph."

"I'm sorry, sir. I didn't catch that."

He sighed heavily. "There's a note with the flowers."

"Oh."

He held his breath as Sam's attention returned to the posy and she freed the small yellow Post-it note he'd jammed between the flowers.

Her eyes momentarily widened before her gaze snapped to his and he took a step back, but before he would let Sam say anything, he grinned.

"Happy holidays, Carter."

He turned on his heel and made a break for it down the corridor and towards the safety of his office, so he never saw Sam staring at the spot where he'd stood just moments earlier.

Nor did he see the smile that tugged at the corner of her lips as she re-read his note.

 _Carter,_

 _Happy 'Do A Grouch A Favor Day'!_

 _Always,_

 _J._

* * *

 **This could, possibly, be a random continuation of 'Just The Way You Are' on 17th January, in the sense that it's Jack and Sam both in the gym, sharing a moment.** **Maybe that could be a series all on its own...**


	49. Losing My Way

**Author's Note: Written for 'My Way Day' (17 February).**

* * *

Jack rubbed at his eyes with the heels of his hands, hoping it would erase everything that had happened over the course of the past four hours.

 _Jack?_

 _Daniel, we're going to do this my way._ _  
_  
He'd known. As soon as he'd yelled at Daniel, he'd known that the entity would do whatever it took to try and preserve itself. Because the damn thing _had_ read his file and knew that he would blow it to hell in an instant if it meant getting Carter back.

 _You value the life of one._

He'd tried to hide his feelings for Carter and he thought he'd done a pretty good job, but the entity was right. He _did_ value Carter's life – and he valued it more than his own, which was precisely why the entity had used his major against him, taunted him, told him that he would never terminate Sam's life.

 _This one is important._ _  
_  
He kept reliving the moment over and over again. The sight of Sam's angry, blue eyes boring into his and deep into his soul. The way the zat felt heavy against his hand as he lifted it to fire. The crackled sound of its charge just milliseconds before it released its energy into Sam's body. _Twice._

 _I think it's time to let her go, sir._ _  
_  
He would never forget, nor would he ever forgive himself, for shooting Carter and how he watched her crumple to the ground. It didn't matter that it was the entity he had neutralized. It had stared back at him unflinching, full of hatred and anger, as it attempted to return to the mainframe. He tried to tell himself that it wasn't Sam, because it wasn't. But it also was – and he'd essentially killed her.

 _I AM HERE._ _  
_  
In the dark solitude of the isolation room, Jack leaned forward in his chair, elbows resting on his knees as he studied Sam. She was asleep and as no-one else was around, he used the opportunity to just observe. To convince himself that she really was alive and okay.

He noticed the way the crease that had formed between her brows had disappeared and the anger that was etched in her features had gone.

His gaze followed the way her chest slowly rose and fell as she was able to breathe by herself.

He caught the way her fingers twitched against his as he held her hand and he knew that it was Carter.

 _His_ Carter.

She was back.


	50. Charged Chemistry

**Author's Note: Written for 'Battery Day' (18 February); a day to "honor the overlooked and overworked battery".**

* * *

Sam hesitated as she entered the infirmary and the loud grumblings of her commanding officer could be heard reverberating around the room.

"For cryin' out loud, Doc! I said I'm fine."

She bit down on her lip to stop herself from laughing at his protestations – especially when she heard Janet's exasperated tone a moment later.

"Humor me, Colonel. You're still showing slight effects of anoxia and you can't stop shivering. You are _not_ going anywhere until I say so."

"Aww, _come on!_ "

"No. Now get back into bed, sir."

"But –"

" _Ah!_ Doctor's orders. "

When there was no further comeback from the colonel, Sam took a couple of steps further into the infirmary and glanced around. Janet had returned to her office, while her patient was climbing back into bed so Sam quickly diverted her gaze. She refused to be caught inappropriately staring her commanding officer's ass – no matter how tempting it might be.

She focused on her boots, silently calculating how long it would take her commanding officer to get comfortable again, when her thoughts drifted back over the past 48 hours and how they'd almost been too late when they finally found the other half of SG-1 unconscious in the glider.

When her father had given them a 'nudge', Sam couldn't explain the relief she felt knowing that Teal'c and Colonel O'Neill had listened to their pleas and fought hard to stay alive. But it was whenever Jack had turned his head and his lazy brown eyes had locked onto hers, that Sam felt her entire body hum.

She smiled in fond recollection at his confusion. Despite the seriousness of the situation, his humor had been a lifeline, and the moment he'd said 'hi' and given her a clumsy wave, she knew he would be just fine.

"Yoohoo… Earth to Carter!"

Sam snapped to attention and she felt her cheeks redden as her commanding officer watched her from his bed, an amused smirk playing around his lips.

"Sorry, sir. I was... thinking," she mumbled lamely as she moved towards him.

"I'd be shocked if you ever stopped," he drawled as he leaned back into the pillows and closed his eyes.

"Is everything OK, sir?"

"Just peachy."

He remained silent for a few minutes when one eye snapped open and he stared at Sam.

"Carter?"

"Sir?"

"Think you can spring me outta this joint?"

"No, sir. I'm sorry," she replied.

Her amusement increased when the colonel closed his eye and mumbled something about 'cahoots' and a 'napoleonic power monger', so she simply canted her head and waited. She knew there was more to come.

Sure enough, a moment later his eyes flew open again. He looked her up and down once before he spoke.

"Did you even bring me anything – besides the unappealing folders in your hand?"

This time it was Sam's turn to smirk as she glanced at the small selection of folders she held.

"No, sir."

"Nothing at all?"

"Nope."

She smiled affectionately as he pouted and mumbled something under his breath.

"What was that, sir?"

"It's so _boring_ in here," he complained, dramatically throwing his arms out by his sides.

"Didn't Teal'c bring your Game Boy down this morning?"

"The Doc took it."

"Umm... why, sir?"

"She said I was playing it 'too loudly'," he pouted, throwing air quotes around the doctor's reasoning.

"Ah."

"It's not funny, Carter!"

"Of course not, sir."

They fell into a comfortable silence, when Jack's gaze rested on her hands.

"What's in the folders?"

Sam opened her mouth to respond but hesitated, instead choosing to hold the files out to him. She waited until he'd pulled himself into a seated position and she watched as he glanced through them, a confused look on his face.

"These look familiar."

"They're your mission reports, sir," she confirmed. "More specifically, your overdue mission reports from our last five missions. General Hammond had me drop by your office."

"Ah. So?"

Sam resisted the urge to roll her eyes. "The General wants them completed – and submitted – within the next three days."

He pulled a face at the relayed order, before he cocked his head to the side and looked at her appreciatively.

"Say, Carter –"

"No, sir."

He frowned. "Why not?"

"For one, they aren't my mission reports."

"So? Just remove all the fancy words and science crap and George will never know!"

"I think he might have some idea, sir."

"I'm suffering from anoxia, y'know," he grumbled in another attempt to get out of his reports.

"I know, sir. And General Hammond knows that too," Sam replied with a placating smile. "Which is why he's given you three days. Otherwise, they needed to be completed tonight."

Any trace of nonchalance faded from the colonel's features at Carter's final words.

"Crap," he mumbled.

With a sigh, he took the first folder and as he flipped it open, Sam lifted the others and set them on the bedside unit.

"Um, sir?"

"Yeah?"

"I thought you said Janet took your Game Boy."

"She did," he grumbled. "Then she brought it back – without the batteries."

The laughter escaped Sam before she could stop it. "I'm sorry, sir," she managed to say around her amusement, setting the toy back down.

"Was there anything else you needed, Carter?" Jack asked dangerously, and Sam read the statement beneath the question. She sobered quickly, only catching the glint in his eye as he diverted his attention back to the folder.

"Not exactly, sir."

"Well, then – if you don't mind – I've got some catching up to do," he said as he let the mission report fall onto his lap.

"Yes, sir."

She'd only taken a half dozen steps when she heard him mumble something else and she froze. Slowly, she turned around to face him. "Sir?"

"Yeah?"

"What did you just say?"

He pulled a face, but met her eye. "I _said_... I managed to sneak you in some blue Jell-O the last time you were in the infirmary."

"I know," she replied softly. "Thank you."

"You really didn't bring me _anything_?" he asked in desperation.

A smile pulled at the corner of Sam's lips and she had to avert her gaze as the colonel narrowed his eyes at her. She glanced around the infirmary before she slowly moved back to his bedside. One of her hands disappeared into the pocket of her BDUs and she gestured for him to hold out a hand.

She let his fingers brush hers as she placed the item onto his palm, but she kept her attention focused on his face as he glanced down. When his face lit up with glee, Sam tried to squash the warm, fuzzy feeling bombarding every inch of her body and she realized she needed to put some distance between them, so with a knowing smile, she backed away from the bed.

"Enjoy, sir."

His eyes flew to hers and he smiled. "Thanks Carter, you're the best!"

With that, the mission report lay forgotten on the bed and Sam shook her head in bemusement as her commanding officer grabbed his Game Boy and inserted two new batteries into the back of the device.


	51. Tug O' War

**Author's Note: Written for 'International Tug-of-War Day' (19 February). Missing scene for 'Threads', or shortly after the events of the episode.**

* * *

"Do you think I should quit the Air Force?"

She doesn't look at the person standing to her right, but sees their shock regardless as they swing around to face her. They don't answer immediately, however, which she appreciates. Instead, they move closer to her side and mirror her stance; elbows rest on the railing and their gaze falling on a random spot in the far end of the yard that's ensconced in darkness.

"Do you want to quit the Air Force?" Their question is slow, heavy, unsure.

"I've been thinking about it over the past few days," she admits. "But I don't know."

"Did something happen?"

She wants to laugh at his question and for the first time she _really_ wishes she could tell her brother exactly what it is she does under Cheyenne Mountain, but she can't.

"Things… are changing," she offers quietly instead.

"You never were one for change." She turns her head and looks at him sharply, but Mark simply lifts a shoulder in response. "I mean, you were fine when your military orders changed, but that's different. That's part of your job. You've always followed the rules."

She stares back towards the yard, snuggling a little further into her sweater as she recalls one of her final conversations with her father.

 _Don't let rules stand in your way._

"But –"

Sam glances at him out of the corner of her eye when he hesitates. "But?"

"Let's just say when it comes to other aspects of your life, you don't necessarily handle change well. You like to be in control."

 _You're content. You're satisfied. You're in control._

When Mark settles down beside her again, he asks, "So, what's changing?"

"No-one really knows yet. I mean, our standing overs for the past eight years… they've been carried out."

"Oh."

"Yeah. My team and I – we've been fighting a battle for eight years," she whispers, aware that she's technically telling her sibling something he isn't allowed to know. "But now it's over. We won."

A slight smile graces her lips as she thinks of the galaxy now free of the Goa'uld.

"That's… good," he says finally, unsure of what else to do and Sam nods enthusiastically. "So, you're awaiting reassignment?"

"No. Yes. Well, maybe. I don't – I'm not sure."

"You've been reassigned before. What's different this time?"

"I don't think I _want_ it."

"The Air Force has been your life so for long, Sam. Aren't you always saying how much you love your job –"

"I do love my job."

"Then what's going on? Why are you suddenly talking about leaving it all behind?"

She goes to speak, but doesn't know how best to answer the question, so she lets the silence fill the space until one of them decides to start the conversation up again.

"OK," her brother eventually hedges. "Say you quit – or retire – whatever. What would you do? I know you, Sam. You'd be bored out of your skull within the hour."

"I could get another job."

"Just like that?"

"Yeah."

"I didn't know there were so many vacancies around for a theoretical astrophysicist."

"There are a few positions that are available within the Air Force," she clarifies. "So, I'd still be working _for_ them, just… in a more civilian capacity."

"And that's something you'd want to do?"

"I think so, yeah," she nods. "I mean, I'd no longer be going off-wor – there would be less traveling involved," she quickly corrects. "And it would give me a lot more time in the labs and back to R&D."

"So, this isn't so much about you leaving the Air Force as it is you leaving the front lines."

It's a statement, rather than a question, but she feels the need to answer.

"Maybe."

"Sam –"

"Do you ever feel like you're being pulled in too many directions?"

"All the time," he smiles ruefully, but Sam isn't able to raise a smile at his attempt to lighten the mood, and when she feels a gentle nudge to her shoulder, she forces herself to meet his gaze.

"I'm tired," she suddenly admits.

"Of?"

It's her turn to sigh. "Everything. I – I feel like I need a fresh start."

"Perhaps this isn't the best time to be making such a big decision."

"What do you mean?"

"Are you serious?"

"What?"

"For one, Sam, we only buried dad yesterday." She bristles at Mark's tone, even though she knows his anger isn't necessarily directed at her. "And then there's the fact that you've called off your wedding –"

"Can we not talk about that?"

"I'm just saying," he continues, his voice noticeably calmer than before. "You have a lot going on at the moment. Maybe you should give it a couple of weeks before you start deciding your future."

A snort escapes her before she can stop it and she tries to wave off Mark's confusion but he doesn't let her.

"Eight years is already a long time."

"Eight years?" Her brother's frown deepens, but she just shakes her head, thankful when he doesn't press the issue further. "Did dad know that you were thinking of giving it all up?" he asks moments later.

"No."

The waver in her voice betrays her answer, however, and she winces.

"Sam? Did dad say something to you before he –"

The word catches in Mark's throat, just like it does with Sam. She shakes her head again, then stops. Her whisper echoes loudly in the darkness. "Kind of. He said he wanted me to be happy."

"Dad said that?"

"Hmm."

"Did he have any reason to think you were unhappy?"

"Maybe. He met Pete." She pulls a face as the words leave her lips. "Their first meeting didn't go too well. I think dad felt he wasn't the right guy for me."

"And you believed him?"

She smiles ruefully into the darkness. "I think I knew before then."

Mark goes to respond, but hesitates and Sam has the feeling that what he's going to say next isn't what he initially planned to say.

"I'm not mad or disappointed that you've ended your engagement, you know."

"You're not?"

"No." She turns to glance at her brother and immediately feels guilty as hurt flashes in his eyes that she didn't believe him. "I'm sad – for you – that it didn't work out. But I'd rather things end up this way and you be happy, than you go through with the wedding and not be."

"I'm sorry," she sighs.

"You don't owe me an apology, Sam. An explanation, maybe, but –"

"As to why I broke it off with Pete?"

"Yeah. You haven't said anything besides 'it just didn't work out'."

"There were a few things," she says as she gives him a half-shrug. "He couldn't live with my job – the secrecy of it. He used to say I was hiding something from him, but I had to. My work is classified and –"

"Hey, hey, hey. Take it easy, Sam," Mark utters in hushed tones as he pulls her into his side and she angrily swipes at the tears that have escaped unbidden down her face. When she has her emotions back under control, she feels Mark press a kiss to the top of her head.

"Talk to me, Sam."

Her voice is muffled against his jacket, but she feels safer this way, a slight barrier remaining as she comes as close as she ever has to baring her soul before.

"It felt like there was so much being expected of me – both at work and then at home from Pete and with the wedding and discussing our future – it was too much. People were busy assuming what they _thought_ I would want, but none of them actually stopped to ask me what I _wanted_ and I just... couldn't do it anymore. I didn't _want_ to do it anymore."

They remain silent for a few minutes before Mark pulls away and speaks softly. "What do you want, Sam?"

 _'Jack'_ is suddenly on the tip of her tongue, but she stops herself from uttering his name. However, she isn't able to stop her attention from straying towards her house where the General, her teammates, and Mark's family are currently making their way through a pumpkin pie. Her brother follows her gaze, but she ignores the look he gives her when clarity floods his features.

"General O'Neill seems like a good man," he eventually offers.

"He is."

She catches Mark's nod and the way his jaw twitches when he's about to ask something important of her. She can feel her heart rate quicken as she holds her breath and waits.

"What part does he play in all of this?"

"What makes you –"

"Oh, come on! You don't think I haven't noticed the way he's looked at you today?"

"Mark, that's not –"

 _"Sam."_

She swallows the rest of her sentence and turns back to rest her arms on the railing.

"Did dad ever talk to you about mom?"

"What do you think?" Mark asks as he copies her stance once again.

"He, uh, he said something to me once. Kind of," she adds, as she isn't quite sure a hallucination of her father actually counts.

"What did he say?"

She hears the break in his voice and she squeezes his arm reassuringly. "He said that mom showed him a world beyond ambition and a career. That she gave his life meaning and balance."

He's visibly surprised by her confession, and he raises a brow, telling her to continue, so she takes a deep breath. "And even though – knowing what happened to mom – he said he loved her so much that he would have done it all over again, just to be with her once more. He loved her, Mark."

"Why are you telling me this?"

"Because it's the same with the General and I."

A low whistle escapes her brother.

"And if we had to relive these past eight years and do our job – through the good and bad – so that it would bring us to this point all over again, we would."

"Look, Sam, dad had his faults, we both know that, but he did love mom. So, maybe – maybe he knew what he was talking about?"

She frowns at his response and he shrugs.

"You think I should follow his advice?"

"That depends on the advice he gave."

"That I should let go of the things that prevent me from finding happiness."

"And right now, that's the job?"

"Yeah," she whispers.

He sighs. "I'd never tell you what to do, Sam, but I'm pretty sure I'm not the one you need to be having this conversation with."

"I know."

"Why don't you talk to him?"

"I have. Kind of."

"Kind of?"

"It's been a busy week."

She winces as Mark's amusement quickly fades, but he doesn't look away. Instead, his eyes are intense and he's studying her as if he's trying to come to a decision.

"Do you love him?"

His question surprises her, but she finds herself nodding once, and he lowers his voice as leans in closer. "Does he love you?"

Again, she nods once, and Mark takes it as all the confirmation he needs. "There's nothing wrong with that, you know," he says after a while as he looks up at the night sky. "You deserve to love someone, Sam, and have them love you in return."

"You make it sound easy."

"And you make it sound like it's a game of tug-of-war," he fires back. "Work or family. Family or work. Why can't it be both? You said it yourself. Eight years is a long time. Doesn't the Air Force owe you something by now?"

She huffs out a laugh void of humor as she considers his question, but she shakes her head, because while Mark's comeback may have been sarcastic, that's exactly what it feels like for Sam. Her heart has been at the center of a cruel tug-of-war for years. Only it isn't a game. It's never been a game, and now she's been pulled so tight in so many different directions and trying to make decisions, only to doubt herself or second-guess others, that she feels she is about to snap and the only way to save herself is to let go. To let go of the ropes that have bound her and chained her down for so long. To finally break free, before she goes after the one thing her heart and head really wants. The one definite in an entire world of uncertainties at this moment in time.

"I guess this past week has made me realize that there is something more to live for than just work," she murmurs as she tugs on the hem of her sweater and lets her gaze fall to her feet.

"I wouldn't call that a bad thing."

"It isn't," she smiles. "It's just trying to figure out how to make it work."

"You're smart, Sam, and Jack doesn't exactly strike me as stupid either. Something tells me you'll figure it out."

"Would you be happy? If we do?"

Mark turns and regards her carefully for a few moments, and Sam fights the urge to look away.

"That depends," he finally answers. "If you do find a way, will you be happy?"

The General has already promised her "always", so she knows that they will do whatever they can to make a relationship work, and her lips involuntary curl into a smile at the thought.

"Yes," she nods as meets her brother's eye. "I will."

"Then I'm happy too."

* * *

 **Quite possibly – i.e. very out of character, but I've always loved the idea of Sam and Mark having a bit of a heart-to-heart, and today seemed to be that day... even though this was not what I had planned to write at all.**


	52. Off The Cuff

**Author's Note: Written for 'Handcuff Day' (20 February).**

 **There is one curse word towards the end of the fic.**

* * *

Jack lets his head fall back against the metal bars and sighs.

At any other time, he'd love nothing more than to get up close and personal with Carter, but not today. Not when the local villagers have thrown the two of them into a cell that barely has enough standing room for _one_ person. And especially not when both he and his major have been handcuffed. Although, he muses, at least they aren't bound together. He isn't sure his restraint would hold out enough if that was the case.

He feels Sam's upper body press against his a little more and he tenses.

"Sorry, sir," she murmurs.

"S'alright."

"I'm just…" She lets her sentence trail off and Jack risks a glance but all he can see is the top of her head.

A few seconds pass when he hears a grunt, followed by a soft curse, and he frowns.

"Carter, what are you doing?"

"Nothing, sir," she answers quickly and his eyes narrow.

"Carter?"

"Don't move," she whispers. "I'm –"

She accidentally brushes against him again and he hisses at the contact.

"Sam," he huffs out, his breath tickling her cheek and making her movements falter. "For the love of God, can you please stand still?"

"Sorry," she mumbles.

The colonel nods abruptly at her apology but his gaze lands on her face and when he catches the pink blush that now stains her cheeks, he realizes she knows the reason why he's asked her to stop fidgeting. He makes himself focus on a point just over Sam's shoulder and tries to think of anything that won't make his current condition worse. He manages to recite ten gate addresses before Sam dips her shoulder slightly and knocks against his awkwardly.

 _"Oh!"_

Eyes wide, Jack's gaze snaps to hers.

"I think I'm almost there."

 _"What?"_

Sam momentarily freezes at the panic that laces his voice but she just shakes her head.

 _"Carter!"_

"Shush, sir."

Then he hears it. The soft click of metal, right before Sam grins and she wriggles her arms. Before the colonel can ask – again – just what the hell his teammate is doing, her hand appears in front of his face, a pair of handcuffs dangling from her index finger.

"How the hell did you manage that?"

"I used to pick locks as a kid," she shrugs.

"Locks I can understand. Cuffs though? That's kind of kin–"

He stops immediately and swallows hard at the word that was about to leave his lips. "Never mind," he mutters, his voice suddenly rough.

He glances around the small cell, before he decides he's nothing to lose.

"Think you can do me now?"

The silence that falls is deafening, except for the choked noise that escapes Sam.

"I – uh –"

"I can try," she says quietly.

Taking a deep breath, Sam manages to slide her arms between the colonel's and his sides. Her fingers graze his hands, but he isn't prepared for the contact and his hips jerk forward.

" _Fuck_ ," he whispers under his breath, but it clearly isn't quiet enough because he sees Sam trying to hide a smirk. He feels the cuffs dig into his skin before it's replaced with the pad of Sam's thumb brushing the inside of his wrist.

"You're gonna have to show me how you do that, you know," he murmurs in her ear before he can stop himself.

Without warning, Sam leans back and meets his eye, and Jack finds his gaze involuntarily flick down to her lips before travelling back up.

"I –"

Suddenly, the outer cell door bangs loudly as it opens, moments before Daniel and Teal'c appear.

"Are you two OK?"

"We're fine, Daniel," he answers after a moment's hesitation. "Just get us out of here, will ya?"

He looks back to Sam as she pulls her arms away from his body, but he can't help noticing how her fingers linger on his sides for a second longer than strictly necessary, or the way there's now a wicked gleam in her eye as she straightens.

"One day, sir," she whispers. "I promise to show you everything I know."


	53. Sugar, Spice And All Things Nice

**Author's Note:** **Written for 'Sticky Bun Day' (21 February). My first ever attempt at a completely AU-fic, which I swore I would never, ever write. Sooo, you can blame this sugary fluff-fest (and potential embarrassment) purely on the fact that I had three sticky buns for my lunch, as well as a slice of cake for my breakfast (and then another slice after my dinner). But, it's my birthday, so I'm not actually feeling that guilty about the amount of sugar I've had today, at all. :)**

* * *

George Hammond shook his head in amusement as he watched his goddaughter make her way around the kitchen. From mixing flour, eggs and sugar in a bowl, or checking on the pastries she'd already put in the oven, to reading some kind of scientific journal, Samantha Carter never stayed still for long.

"The final batch is almost ready," she said without looking up from her book. "Just a few more minutes."

"Sounds good," he nodded as he turned and headed out of the kitchen and back into the main section of the coffeehouse.

The sound of Sam softly humming followed him and he smiled. George had been the proud owner of the Star Springs Coffeehouse for the last two years and while the initial move from a military career to a business role had not been entirely smooth, the former general could honestly say he'd enjoyed every moment of the experience alongside his small, but dedicated team.

The strong friendships the staff had developed with each other also filtered through to their customers, with many of them now regulars. Not only did he appreciate their custom, he was also indebted to the support they'd shown towards Sam since she'd moved to the town to live with him and his family, following the death of her parents in a traffic accident. She was a resilient teenager and, unlike her brother who'd gone off to join the Air Force, Sam had immersed herself in her studies and passed her final exams with flying colors. She was now preparing to head off to college, but first wanted to spend her summer vacation helping out at the coffeeshop, which George didn't mind in the slightest.

The overhead bell to the coffeeshop chimed loudly and he glanced up to see one of his regular customers enter.

Major Jack O'Neill.

The man had started frequenting the café a couple of months previously, but it had only ever been on a weekday before. It was now late on a Saturday afternoon.

Jack tended to keep to himself, but being a former military man, George had soon been able to strike up a rapport with the soldier and knew that he was a good man. But whilst O'Neill had never confirmed his suspicions, George also knew that he was involved in Black Ops and his last mission hadn't gone according to plan. Again, the younger man hadn't shared any details, but George had caught the dark, haunted look that lurked deep within his eyes. He'd had the same look when he too had been a young man and asked to carry out unspeakable acts as part of his duty to his country.

Shaking his head to rid himself of the memories, George smiled as Jack stopped at the other side of the counter.

"Jack! I'm surprised to see you in here today."

"Yeah," he answered with a small grin. "I thought I'd shake up the old routine a bit, y'know?"

"Do you want your usual?"

Jack hesitated at the question, then nodded once. "Please – and a slice of pumpkin pie. But it can wait for a few minutes. I'm – ah – I'm meeting someone."

"Oh?" George raised a brow in surprise and smiled.

"Yeah. We were, uh, supposed to meet up a couple of months ago but I was… overseas," he mumbled, and the older man nodded in understanding.

"Anyone I know?" he asked after a few moments, knowing that if they were from the local area, it was highly likely he'd heard of them.

"A friend of a friend," Jack shrugged. "Her name's Sara. That's pretty much all I can tell you."

George hummed in response, but before he could answer he heard the kitchen door swing open behind him.

"Uncle George? Where do you want the –"

He turned when Sam abruptly stopped speaking and he saw a flash of surprise on her face, which she quickly managed to hide – even if she wasn't as successful as masking the blush on her cheeks. When she briefly diverted her gaze away from Jack, George started to make the introductions, only to find the man himself staring at his goddaughter in what he could only describe as complete adoration.

He glanced between the two for a few seconds, before Jack broke the silence. "Hi."

"Hello."

As they continued to stare, George couldn't help but grin. "Are you going to carry those around for the rest of your shift?"

Sam tore her gaze away from the newcomer and looked at him. "Hmm?"

When he gestured towards her hands, she glanced down and seemed startled to discover she was holding a tray of sticky buns.

"Oh!" Her blush deepened and she quickly turned to set the tray down and transferred the buns onto a stand on the counter.

"Did you make those?"

She nodded at Jack's question, but didn't quite meet his eye.

"They look great."

"They taste great too," George added proudly. "Samantha's my star baker."

"Samantha, huh?"

"Most people just call me Sam," she smiled shyly as she wiped a hand on her apron before she tucked an errant strand of hair behind her ear.

"Well, in that case, I'm Jack."

Sam reached for his outstretched hand. "Nice to meet you."

"The pleasure's all mine," he replied earnestly.

George tilted his head and watched the interaction with interest, especially when Sam pulled her hand away from Jack's and cradled it with her other hand.

"I – uh – I should really get back to..." She trailed off and gestured vaguely towards the kitchen. With a final smile and a lingering look, she turned on her heel and walked away.

Out of the corner of his eye, George watched Jack as he watched Sam disappear back into the kitchen, and he had to try and hide a smile of his own when Jack forced his attention away from the door, only to realize he'd been caught staring.

The younger man cleared his throat awkwardly and looked around before his gaze fell on a jar of straws. He reached over, grabbed one out of the holder and started twisting it between his fingers.

"Hey, George?"

"Yes, son?"

"Forget the pie. Give me one of those sticky buns instead."

He happily followed the man's order and smiled. Regardless of who he was expected to meet at the coffeehouse that afternoon, something told George that Jack now only had eyes for Sam.


	54. A Dangerous Focus

**Author's Note: Written for 'Single Tasking Day' (22 February).**

* * *

The door to Sam's on-base quarters clicked shut and she sighed heavily. For all intents and purposes, her current frustration was directed at Janet but, in reality, Sam knew that she was just angry with herself and her friend was the unfortunate soul to bear the brunt of her muddled state.

She had been so close to completing the particle accelerator and she would even go as far as to say she would have finished it if Janet hadn't decided to drop by her lab again at the exact moment she slumped against her work bench.

As a result, Sam found herself immediately taken to the infirmary with an entire catalog of tests being carried out before she was ordered to her quarters to get some rest. With nothing of use to hand, such as her laptop, Sam slumped onto the small cot in the room and closed her eyes.

She took a deep breath, and another, and then slammed her fist against the thin mattress. If she, or Janet, or anyone thought that she was actually going to be able to rest, they were sadly mistaken.

In fact, ever since the colonel had been stranded on Edora, Sam's every thought, movement and breath revolved around thoughts of _him_ and how to bring him home. The intensity, and single-minded focus with which she poured into potentially breaking the laws of physics, terrified her. She couldn't remember a time when she had been so utterly determined to achieve something before.

She knew it was completely irrational and wholly inappropriate on her part as she tried to deal with the issue that she was missing her commanding officer a lot more than she should be. Sure, she'd told Janet that it wasn't a problem, but it was. It was a gargantuanproblem and one that Sam could not – and would not – share with anyone.

Tears pricked her eyes and she squeezed them shut. She refused to cry on base, especially over the colonel. It was the last thing she needed anyone to see or know. She tried to think of anything to get her mind away from what he might be doing at that very moment, and her thoughts drifted to two months earlier when her alternate self had stepped through the quantum mirror.

In the immediate aftermath of the whole incident, she noticed the colonel had started to treat her slightly differently than before, but while Sam had tried not to think too much about it at the time, she now found herself wondering just what was behind the change in his behavior. She thought of the kiss he shared with _Doctor_ Samantha Carter, but it filled her with pain and a pang of jealousy that surprised her.

She shook her head and stared at the ceiling.

She would do whatever it took to bring her teammate back home. She had no other choice.

When Daniel and Teal'c – and even Janet – had asked her why she was pushing herself to the limits, she'd simply shrugged and said that they don't leave their men behind.

Yet, deep down, Sam knew there was more to it than that.

She no longer pictured her life without the colonel – _Jack_ – in it.

She closed her eyes once again and forced herself to try and relax. She would stay in her quarters for an hour to appease Janet and then she'd sneak back to her lab.

Tomorrow would be a hundred days since the colonel's stranding and Sam refused to contemplate him being there one day longer.


	55. Bottled Over

**Author's Note: Written for 'Open That Bottle Night' (this year held on 23 February). Supposedly, this holiday is "dedicated to making sure that those bottles of fine wine put away for a special occasion, are used and enjoyed." It's also said that one of its aims is to motivate people to reconnect with each other over a bottle and create good memories with friends and family.**

 **Wine. Beer. It's still booze.**

 **Episode addition for season 6 'Full Circle'.**

* * *

"Carter?"

"Hi, sir."

He regards his second-in-command carefully as she throws him an awkward smile. Casually leaning an arm against his front door, he takes a swig of beer.

"Am I interrupting anything?" she asks when he doesn't immediately welcome her into his home. He studies her for a few more seconds then shrugs.

"Unless you count drinking… no."

He decides not to acknowledge the uncomfortable silence that falls, but they both know why she's on his doorstep. It's the same reason he's currently making his way through a six-pack of Guinness, because he still can't fathom that Skaara, and the other kids on Abydos – hell, the entire Abydonian population – are dead.

He _really_ hates the Goa'uld, but he also knows that Sam is trying to come to terms with the loss as well and the last thing she probably needs right now is for him to be a complete ass about the situation. Even if he does want to spend the night alone, drinking himself into a stupor. With a heavy sigh, he pushes away from the door and steps aside, allowing her into his house.

"You want a drink?"

"Whatever you're having is fine."

He waves her towards the living room as he heads into the kitchen, and when he appears by her side moments later, she jumps as his fingers brush against her arm. Even through her leather jacket, Jack swears the touch makes his skin feel like it's on fire and he quickly stamps down on that train of thought.

"Thank you," Sam murmurs as she takes the proffered beer. "Did I wake you?"

He frowns at her question and she gestures to the small lamp in the corner of the room that's been switched on and the comforter thrown haphazardly across the recliner.

"No."

"Oh."

He doesn't divulge any further information, however, instead taking another drink. But then the room starts to feel too small, too claustrophobic, and he needs to leave. Without a word, he reaches across and plucks Sam's beer from her hand and turns on his heel.

"C'mon," he says over his shoulder.

"Are you sure I'm not interrupting, sir?" she asks warily as she follows him through the house and towards the roof.

"I'm sure," he answers. "I'd just gone inside for more beer when you arrived, so…" he trails off and shrugs, not quite sure if he wants Carter to know how many beers he's already drained. Although, he figures she might have a pretty good idea. She doesn't say anything about it, however, which he appreciates and he gestures for her to sit down before he gives her back her drink. Sam decides to forgo a seat and instead makes herself comfortable on the well-worn throw blanket, her back resting against the frame of the chair. After a moment's hesitation, Jack settles beside her.

Neither speak for what feels like an eternity for Jack, so he's surprised when it's him who breaks the silence.

"Y'alright?"

His voice is quiet, but it still sounds too loud for their surroundings. Out of the corner of his eye, he catches Sam's nod. "Yes, sir."

"Carter," he sighs. "Can't you drop the 'sir'? For once?"

His question comes out harsher than he intends and it shows when he sees the flash of hurt in his teammate's expression.

"We're not at work," he adds, more softly this time. "Right now – well, I'd just like to forget about everything."

He takes a swig of beer, idly noticing that Sam has yet to take a drink.

"You, ah, haven't done that in a while."

He turns his head to look at her and frowns. "Done what?"

"Asked me to stop calling you 'sir'."

"Yeah, well, it's been a while since we've just… hung out."

The regret in his voice is clear, but before he can dwell on _why_ he feels so guilty, he hears Sam's whisper.

"A year. It's been almost a year since we last had some kind of team night," she adds, picking at the corner of the label on her beer bottle.

"It's been a tough year."

"Yeah."

He gladly lets the silence return, even if it is heavy and he thinks of the losses they've all suffered over the past twelve months. The endless sacrifices they seem to be making. The close calls they experienced – each one slowly inching their way towards being _too_ close.

His thoughts suddenly return unbidden to Skaara and how it was too late for Jack to save him. He thinks of how the kid has been stolen of the chance to get married, to fall more and more in love with the woman he called his beloved, to have children –

It's a reminder of Charlie and Jack swallows hard at the lump in his throat as his anger and sadness build.

"I wonder what Skaara's wedding would have been like."

"Hmm. The wedding," he repeats and he can't help the touch of bitterness lacing his voice, but he thinks he has the right to be churlish, considering the events of the past few days. "The one we were meant to go to together. As friends."

The words leave him before he can stop them and he feels Sam tense by his side, but he doesn't apologize for what he's just said – because he isn't sure he's actually sorry.

"Well, we are friends. Aren't we, sir?"

Her voice is quiet, almost vulnerable and he can't quite decipher the look that's in her eye. So, he lets his gaze roam over her form, and then something shifts inside him and realizes that there is just something about her that makes him want to be different – to be _better_. To be the friend that she deserves, even if it is all that he can ever give her.

"Always," he finally answers, his voice low and husky.

He doesn't know what it is, or how she does it, but Sam makes his anger and unpredictability dissipate – like somehow, she is the light that, against all hope, vies against the darkness within him.

He hears her sharp intake of breath at his answer, right before her attention falls to his lips, and he swallows hard. He needs to retreat now before he does something stupid.

"We need more beer," he utters at a loss for anything else and gestures for her to stay where she is as he jumps to his feet. "Don't go anywhere."

 _So much for not doing anything stupid._

In the end, he isn't sure what makes him do it.

He thinks it could have been when Sam was on her third beer and he'd lost count of his intake, and she'd suddenly started reminiscing about Daniel and how she'd wished she had been able to spend time with him on Abydos. To ask what he'd been up to the past year and why he hadn't visited, yet he had chosen to appear to both him and Teal'c. He'd absorbed her anger and then tried to appease her hurt over their revelation that they'd seen their friend but never told her.

Maybe, he wonders, it was when Sam had turned her attention to the night sky but he'd focused on the way the moonlight cast a pale white light on his major's face, giving her an ethereal glow that he found captivating. And when she'd finally turned to see him watching her, he didn't think twice about getting to his feet or how he'd stretched out a hand and helped Carter to hers, whispered, 'C'mere' and held her in his arms.

Or, he thinks it could have been when Sam turned those sparkling blue eyes on him and whispered a heartfelt apology for Skaara's death. He never said anything, instead he slung an arm around her shoulders and pulled her tight against his side.

But then, he concedes, that maybe the beer was to blame for why he'd kissed Carter.

He wasn't drunk by any stretch, neither was Sam, but the alcohol had clearly lowered their inhibitions just enough so that when he let his hands cup Sam's face or his thumb lightly traced her cheek, or even the way he'd whispered her name a second before he pressed his lips to hers, she didn't pull away. Instead, she'd immediately responded and deepened the kiss.

But the kissing wasn't exactly the problem.

The real problem was that somewhere along the way, they'd had one of their silent conversations, which said that while they knew what they were doing, and that even though they really shouldn't be and should stop... they're also in agreement that they _want_ to do this. Which is why Sam willingly followed him back into his house, down the hallway and into his bedroom.

He glances to his right to find her still asleep and a soft smile graces his lips. If he's honest, there's not one part of him that regrets kissing her. He knows it'll probably make things more difficult in that they'll have to pretend their night together never happened, but he's also happy in the knowledge that once their fight with the Goa'uld is over, it's a promise of more to come.

* * *

 **OK, so towards the latter end of season 6, Sam and Jack seem to be inching closer to the relationship they had before – less tension, less coldness, etc. However, at the start of season 7, they are so flirty and just the complete opposite. So, something had to happen between the pair after the events of Full Circle, but before Fallen.**

 **Basically, the idea behind this fic was just an excuse to let (one of) my headcanons run free for a little while. :D**


	56. Drinking Buddies

**Author's Note: Written for 'World Bartender Day' (24 February).** **I'm just going to be completely honest; I don't know if this is meant to be an alternate reality offering, or a completely AU scenario...**

* * *

 _February 24, 1996_ _  
_ _Washington D.C._

"A Martinez, ma'am."

Sam purses her lips as she stares unconvincingly at the drink. She's never had a Martinez in her life, nor does she want to start now, so she looks up and sees Cam Mitchell standing behind the bar smirking.

She likes Mitchell, but she doesn't care for his amusement at this precise moment in time. The two of them have known each other for years and became good friends, having gone through the Academy together. But then Cam had been medically discharged and, after one too many drinks one night deciding what he was going to do next with his life, he ended up buying a bar in the city. The decision, however, actually worked out in his favor as it soon became a regular spot for many of the military officers visiting, or stationed, in and around the area.

"From the gentleman over by the pool table. Red shirt," he murmurs as he moves to the other end of the bar to serve another customer.

She smiles half-heartedly at his tip-off and is once again thankful that her friend owns the bar. With as much casualness as she can muster, Sam lets her gaze wander around the crowded bar until her eyes land on her latest admirer. He's young and kind of attractive, she thinks, but not her type, so when he winks at her, she smiles tightly before turning back to the drink he's bought her and tries to catch Cam's attention. When he joins her moments later, she just shakes her head and for the fifth time that evening, wordlessly pushes the drink back across the bar. She hears him mutter something along the lines of 'zero for five' as he walks away, and resists the urge to roll her eyes.

It's not her fault that it's the fifth guy she's turned down in the space of two hours. She isn't even looking to pick up a guy. If anything, she doesn't want to see _any_ man right now. Her broken engagement to Jonas Hanson is still fresh but Mitchell had somehow managed to convince her to leave her apartment and celebrate her newfound freedom. So, here she is – and hating every second.

Or rather, she's hating the attention she is on the receiving end of. The freedom from her former fiancé, however? No. She is enjoying that new aspect of her life very much, thank you.

"So, what was wrong with him?" Cam asks as he leans on the counter.

"Not my type," she shrugs.

"He's a nice guy," he offers.

"Probably is," she agrees. "But I'm not interested."

A bottle of beer suddenly appears and she raises a brow.

"No admirer," he smiles. "Just a friend who looks like she needs another drink."

She reaches for the bottle with a snort of amusement and takes a healthy swig. She actually hasn't had that much to drink, but she briefly wonders how much it would take for her to get drunk, even though she knows Cam would cut her off before she was too far gone.

And it's not like she tries to forget about her troubles with alcohol, but she's just in one of those moods where she wants to get a little lost in the noise and the lights and finally move on from Jonas. She feels like if she can do that, then she can finally break free and start afresh, leaving behind the scars he's tried to impress on her heart and mind.

As she weighs up the pros and cons of getting drunk, the sound of a glass hitting the bar top draws her attention and she glances down to see another drink.

She rests an elbow on the counter and props her chin up on her hand.

"Double shot of whiskey," Cam supplies. "From the older man at the end of the bar."

Sam bites back a sigh. She's had enough dealings with some of the "older men" at The Pentagon to know that she does _not_ want to spend any of her evening in that kind of company, but she decides to humor them and glances down the end of the bar.

There are three potential suitors. One who is engrossed in the basketball game showing on the screen above his head, one who is staring a little too lecherously for her liking, and one who is turned away from her, his attention seemingly on the game of pool underway in the far corner of the bar. And he's the one she's drawn to.

"Leather jacket," she hears Cam whisper and she involuntarily straightens on the bar stool.

It turns out to be the third guy and Sam lets out a breath she doesn't realize she's been holding. She can't see the man's profile from where she sits but there is something about him that makes Sam want to know more.

"Mitchell," she calls. "Give me another one of those," she says gesturing to the whiskey, her eyes never leaving the mystery man.

Even though she can't see his face, instinct tells her that he's military. Black Ops, she deduces and she wonders about the wisdom of approaching the stranger given her previous relationship, but before she can talk herself out of it, she grabs both drinks in her left hand, slides off the bar stool and makes her way towards him. He's still looking at the far corner of the bar, pretending not to be paying attention to her, so with her free hand, Sam grabs the back of the stool and swivels him towards her. She resists the urge to smirk when his knee knocks against hers, stopping the momentum and a flash of surprise shows in his eyes before he carefully schools his features.

"Can I help you?" He asks.

"You tell me."

Again, something she can't quite decipher appears in his expression, just for a second, and then it's gone.

"Come again?"

"Do you always buy a girl a drink and then expect her to drink alone?"

His attention drifts to the two glasses of whiskey she holds in the air before he meets her gaze.

"Who said it was me?"

"I just know."

A smirk slowly tugs at the corner of his mouth and Sam suddenly finds it a little harder to breathe. "Really?"

She nods and the stranger leans in a little closer. His voice a little lower, a little huskier when he speaks.

"So, it has nothing to do with the fact that your little bartender friend has been feeding you info all night?"

Sam can feel herself flush, but whether it's because he's caught her lying or because she's realizing that he's been watching her for a while, she isn't quite sure. All she does know is that the satisfied smirk he's now giving her fills her with a warmth and gives her a buzz in a way the alcohol hasn't.

"How'd you know I'd want a whiskey?" She asks instead.

"Because I imagine it's what you'd have been ordering next if one more poor guy had tried to chat you up."

"Isn't that what you're doing?"

"That depends," he offers, shifting on the stool slightly. "You're actually talking to me. I'd say that's a point in my favor."

Sam can't help the laugh that escapes and she regards him thoughtfully for a moment before she presses one of the glasses into his hand. Without breaking the stare, she taps her glass against his and they both down their drink. She can feel his eyes on her as she gestures to Cam for another round, right before she hops onto the free stool to his left.

"So," he says casually as he rests his elbows on the counter. "Does this mean it's one for six now?"

"That depends," Sam shrugs as she discovers he really has been keeping tabs on her and Cam all night. "I haven't made my mind up yet."

She turns slightly to look at him and notices his brown hair and tanned skin and she can't deny the fact that he's really, really handsome. But it's his eyes that captivate her. They're dark brown and warm and mysterious and she feels like they could hold the secrets of the universe.

His knee lightly jostles her out of her reverie and she slides a whiskey in his direction.

"I'm Jack," he offers with a grin.

She takes his outstretched hand. "Sam."

Jack nods once before he lifts his glass and cants it towards her. "Well, _Samantha_ , it's nice to meet you."

She tries to ignore the way her name sounds as it rolls off his tongue, but if the look in his eye is anything to go by, she reckons she's failing miserably. Instead, she picks up her own drink and smiles.

"Ya sure, you betcha, Jack."


	57. The Hand We're Dealt

**Author's Note:** **Written for 'Play More Cards Day' (25 February). Set sometime during season 7, for no other reason than I love the team dynamics. And when I say team, I really mean Sam/Jack. ;)**

* * *

Sam grins triumphantly as Daniel folds and throws his cards onto the table. Moments later, Teal'c carefully gathers his own hand together, bows his head and announces that he too is retiring from the latest round.

"That just leaves you then, colonel."

Jack glances over at his teammate and tries to decide if she's bluffing with that confident look or not. Samantha may be a terrible liar, but when it comes to poker, she's got one of the best damn game plans out there.

He takes a drink of his beer as he tries to buy himself a few more seconds and he thinks she probably does have a good hand. However, his isn't too shabby either, so he decides to risk it.

"Count me in," he says as he throws his last pretzel towards the centre of his kitchen table, right before he places his cards face up to reveal all five are of the same suit. "Flush," he smiles. "What you got?"

With a flourish, Sam presents her hand and Jack closes his eyes at the cards he sees.

"Full house," she laughs.

"Damn," he grins, then with more enthusiasm than he thinks the pretzels are really deserving of, Sam scoops the snacks towards her and pops one into her mouth.

"Want to go again?"

Daniel shakes his head as he pushes away from the table. "Not me. I'm going to call it a night."

"As am I," Teal'c adds, as he stands.

"Goodnight, O'Neill. Major Carter."

Sam and Jack bid their friends goodnight, sharing a smile when Daniel tries – and fails – to smother a yawn as he answers.

"What about you, Carter? One more before we turn in?"

She looks surprised at his question, but it's only when he replays the words over in his head, does he realize how it sounds.

"Uh, I meant separately," he stresses. "Not that we'd be – well –"

"I know what you meant," Sam interrupts and he's thankful for her tact – even if she is now smirking at him.

He clears his throat awkwardly. "So, whaddya say?"

"Deal me in," she replies as she gets up and moves towards the fridge.

"You betcha," he grins, but then he pauses and rests his elbows on the table. "How about we make this more interesting?"

Sam snorts loudly as she hands him a beer. "Not after the last time, thank you very much."

He chuckles as a blush appears on her face and his gaze follows her as she makes her way back to her seat.

"What do you have in mind?"

He brazenly lets his gaze travel down her body and back up again, before he grins mischievously, but as much as he'd like to suggest strip poker again, he decides against it.

"If you win, I'll accompany you to this physics seminar thing Hammond's given you leave for next month – and I promise not to complain for the entire duration."

"You know it's a three-day conference?"

His humor dissipates slightly but he raises three fingers in the air in signals towards her. "Scout's honor."

"And what if you win?"

"Then you finally have to accompany me to the cabin for three days of fishing."

She raises a brow in disbelief. "That's it?"

"Yeah," he shrugs. "But you're not allowed to complain, you're not allowed to bring anything work-related with you, and you're not allowed to do anything but have fun."

He waits patiently as she regards him. Eventually, she nods once and smiles.

"OK, then, sir. You've got a deal."

"Excellent," he grins as he reaches forward and starts shuffling the cards. "Oh, and it's dealer's choice."

"That's not fair!"

"Major, I've had my ass handed to me all evening. We need something on a more even footing for this bet," he quips, dealing them out seven cards each.

"Fine," she mumbles. "Your usual choice?"

"Yep. You go first, Carter."

She sighs as she picks up her cards and studies them. Her selection doesn't seem too bad – yet.

"Got any fives?"

Jack peers at her over his own set of cards, a glint in his eye.

"Go fish, Carter," he grins.


	58. Once Upon A Time, Miles From Home

**Author's Note: Written for 'Tell A Fairy Tale Day' (26 February). Set post-series.**

* * *

Sam dried her hands on a towel before she folded it and placed it on the kitchen worktop. Switching off the light, she suppressed a yawn and made her way along the hall. She had almost made it to the main bedroom when the sound of murmured voices could be heard coming from the room to her right. When she noticed the door was slightly ajar, she moved closer.

"So, this bad guy –"

"Ra?"

"Uh… _Ray_ , honey."

"Oh, yeah! 'Cause he was in charge of the sun and all its rays."

"'Atta girl! Right, so this bad guy was becoming very powerful and planning to hurt a lot of good people."

Sam straightened and frowned at the bedroom door and the conversation she had just overheard. Tonight, was Jack's turn to read Grace a bedtime story, but while Sam had started to tidy the kitchen after dinner, she could have sworn their daughter had selected 'The Wizard of Oz' as her reading material for the night. So, how Dorothy and the Tin Man had suddenly morphed into an eerily familiar story about 'Ray', she had no idea. All she did know was that she really did not want to have to kill her husband if their five-year-old decided to one day share these tales with her friends.

The sound of Jack's voice pulled her from her thoughts and she leaned towards the door again.

"…But the superhero was able to use his powers to trick Ray and save all the good people."

"What were the superhero's powers?"

"Huh?"

Sam heard Grace sigh loudly and she had to bite down on her lip to stop herself from laughing.

"Every superhero has a special power, daddy."

"Oh! Uh, well… he was strong, and – uh –well, it's a secret, remember?" she heard Jack whisper and Sam knew the instant he started to regret telling this particular bedtime story.

"I remember. So, did Ray die?"

"He did, and the superhero was able to retire knowing he had made a difference, but… what he didn't know was that Ray had some friends – really bad friends – who also wanted to hurt people."

Grace gasped in horror. "Then what happened?"

From her position in the hall, Sam could hear the quiver in her daughter's voice and she suddenly worried that Jack had taken the story too far.

"Well, the superhero heard some stories and knew these people were like Ray, so he decided to find his costume and try to save everyone from the bad guys all over again."

"I like this superhero! So, what did he do?"

"Um… well, it's a long story –"

"You don't have to tell me them all tonight, daddy!"

At Grace's deadpan answer, Sam chuckled. Slowly, she pushed open the door a further and smiled at the scene before her. Jack was lying on their daughter's bed, the upper half of his body propped up against the headboard, with one arm folded behind his head, while his legs were crossed at the ankles. To his right, Grace was tucked tightly against his side, her head resting on his chest, her arms wrapped tightly around the rag doll Daniel had bought her for Christmas the previous year. Suddenly, Sam felt overcome with love and happiness and she leaned against the doorframe.

She wasn't surprised when Jack caught the movement and his gaze snapped to hers. Even from where she was standing, she could see his expression soften further, his brown eyes glistening with the same emotions. Slowly, however, she saw his affection morph into amusement, and Sam resisted the urge to roll her eyes as a crooked grin spread across her husband's face.

"Well," Jack said, his eyes never leaving Sam's as he answered his daughter's question. "It is a long story, but on his first day back to work, the superhero meets a princess."

"Ooh! A princess!"

"Mmm. A very pretty princess too."

"Then what happens?"

"That's when the fun really begins," he finished as he shared a knowing smile with his wife.


	59. A Welcome Inconvenience

**Author's Note: Written for 'Inconvenience Yourself Day' (27 February), a day "meant to serve as an incentive for others to acknowledge their appreciation for acquaintances or strangers and to promote a respectful attitude and an attentive demeanour… _most of all, to reflect on what others need and how we can help._ "**

* * *

Jack placed the bottle of scotch on the table and sighed heavily.

He and the rest of SG-1 had been pulled from tomorrow's mission roster. Hammond had never given an official reason as to why he'd delayed their next mission, but Jack knew why the general had made his decision – and he was thankful.

So, he'd planned to spend his downtime sleeping his way through the hangover he was no doubt going to have in the morning. It might appear selfish to some, but for Jack, that pain was easier than the remembering another year without Charlie.

He lifted the framed photograph of his son and let his fingers reverently trace over the image.

Not a day went by when he wished he could turn back time and change the events of that summer afternoon. To hear his son's peals of laughter as he played in the backyard, or to see his smile when Jack had arrived home early from work. Just to hold him in his arms once again and tell him that he loved him.

With a final longing look, Jack set the frame back onto the table and poured himself a drink. He'd just finished his first glass when there was a gentle knock on the door. He thought briefly about ignoring the interruption, but against his better judgment he made his way to the front door. And there was Carter with a pizza in one hand and a six-pack in the other.

He regarded her carefully for a few moments before he gave her a soft smile and silently stepped aside to let her in.

Suddenly, he was grateful for her unexpected arrival. He didn't really want to be alone anymore.


	60. Wildflower Promises

**Author's Note: Written for 'Floral Design Day' (28 February).**

* * *

Sam glanced at her watch and winced; almost three hours after she'd left the base, she had unwittingly found herself back there.

She jabbed a finger against the button for Level 19 and as the elevator doors slid closed, she closed her eyes and let one of its walls take her weight, sighing as the coldness from the metal cooled her skin.

Today was meant to be her day off. A day off to go with Pete and pick her wedding flowers. Flowers for a wedding that was only ten days away.

Her breath caught – and not for the first time – at the realization.

Despite a day filled with various wedding planning tasks, Sam woke at 0530 and managed to sneak out of the house while Pete continued to sleep. She quickly arrived at the base and locked herself in her lab for an hour before an unscheduled off-world activation had her running to the control room. The visitor turned out to be Teal'c returning with bad news. As a result, it was left to Sam to phone the general and drag him into the SGC earlier than he'd expected for the day.

Following a frustrating briefing and an even more frustrating interruption from Pete complaining about her disappearance – and then her excuse that there was a very likely chance she'd be unable to attend the florists later – Sam wanted nothing more than to return and hide in the sanctuary of her lab.

Fate – not to mention her father – had other plans, however, and he just _had_ to mention the fact that she was supposed to be choosing her wedding flowers. His not-so-innocent comment had annoyed Sam, but it was nothing compared to the frustration and disappointment she felt when the General insisted that she go. _Pick flowers._

Sam let her head fall back against the elevator wall as she groaned loudly, her exasperation echoing in the small space. She had deliberately 'forgotten' to inform General O'Neill of her specific plans for her day off. Just like she'd 'forgotten' to tell him that she had selected a cake last week, or that she she'd 'forgotten' to say about the dress fitting the week before that.

It wasn't necessarily that she wanted to keep the details of her wedding a secret; she just didn't want the general to know about them. And if he did happen to inadvertently hear about some element of the wedding – via Daniel or otherwise – she always felt a degree of shame.

The elevator pinged cheerily, breaking her thoughts, and Sam quickly decided not to dwell on why the revelation bothered her more than it should. Especially when she was days away from marrying another man.

She pushed away from the wall and as she made her way towards her lab, her thoughts returned to her father. She could tell that something was on his mind, but what exactly that was, Sam didn't know. She wasn't sure if it was Pete, or the current situation with Dakara, or even his still fraught relationship with the Tok'ra. Deep down though, she had a horrible feeling that it was something else entirely.

When they'd met in the mess shortly after Pete's visit, he had looked ill. And even though he had insisted that he was fine, just tired, Sam could see the thin sheen of sweat that had formed on his brow as he got to his feet. As Sam watched him walk away, her concern only increased. His movements were rigid, heavy. Almost as if it was a chore for him to lift and place one foot in front of the other.

With a shake of her head, Sam resolved to check on her father as soon as she'd paid a visit to her lab. She turned the corner and started down another eerily empty hallway, allowing her shoulders to slump as she felt the weight of the world rest on them once more. Her mind was racing and she desperately felt like she was being pulled in a number of directions, and for the first time in her eight years at Stargate Command, she didn't have any bright or ridiculous idea to save Earth. Instead, she felt like she was quickly losing control – and it terrified her.

She wondered if Daniel was alive or dead. She questioned whether Teal'c and Bra'tac had been able to send a message to the Free Jaffa, and what would subsequently happen to the weapon on Dakara following the fallout. She hesitated at the reason for what was really preoccupying her father. Then, there was the uncertainty surrounding Anubis' reported disappearance – was he really gone, or was he planning one final attack? Would they survive if he did? She considered whether she should postpone her wedding – or if she should go through with it at all – and if she should talk to the General about the issue.

Sighing, Sam ran a hand across her forehead and wished that she could stop thinking and just do it.

Her head throbbed with every step she took nearer to her lab and her pants pocket seemingly began to vibrate in time with her footsteps. She paused, looked down and frowned when she realized her cell phone was actually ringing. She pulled it from her pocket and saw the caller ID.

 _Pete._

All of a sudden, her head felt like was about to explode and she wondered what was actually the source of her pain.

She let her cell ring.

The more she thought about it, the more she became convinced that her headache was down to the selection of bright – and completely garish – flowers she had been confronted with at the florists. Her head, and heart, hadn't been in the decision-making – again. And so, like the majority of their wedding plans, Sam had just gone along with Pete's choice.

She pulled a face as she recalled the bouquet of red, orange and yellow flowers he'd selected.

They were lovely flowers, but they just weren't _her_.

As she reached her lab, her cell phone rang again and without a second thought, she switched it off and threw it into a drawer in the desk. She sat down heavily in her chair and let her head fall into her hands. She felt trapped, with no idea how to break free.

Sam wasn't sure how long she stayed that way, but when she straightened, she was surprised to see a small, yet beautiful posy of flowers on the bench. She knew they were Forget-Me-Nots, as they were her mother's favorite. Slowly, and with shaking hands, she reached out and lifted them to her nose. A small smile graced her lips and she let her eyes drift closed as she inhaled their delicate fragrance.

A moment later, she detected a second fragrance and her eyes snapped open. The scents may have been mixed together, but Sam knew that particular scent anywhere.

She glanced again at the flowers and noticed a small card almost hidden in the middle. She set the posy down to read the message.

 _Sam,_

 _It seems you've been quite forgetful with your wedding plans lately._

 _When you're married, try not to forget about us too._

 _J.  
_

Sam's eyes filled with tears and she couldn't stop the choked sob that escaped. She knew that the 'us' included Daniel and Teal'c, but a part of her tried so hard to read between the lines where 'us' was just the two of _them_. Sam and Jack.

Movement out of the corner of her eye caught her attention and she glanced up to see the general leaning against the door jamb, his hands shoved deep into the pockets of his BDU pants. However, despite the relaxed stance he tried to exude, the tight set of his jaw and the pain she saw flash through those chocolate-brown eyes unearthed his true feelings.

A single tear slipped down Sam's cheek but before she could say or do anything, the general offered her a sad smile, then turned and left, leaving her to stare at an empty doorway.

 _Try not to forget about us._

She glanced back to the flowers and the realization hit her full force.

 _Us._

Pete Shanahan might not know her at all, but Jack O'Neill knew _everything_ about her.

He always had.

Gripping the edge of the bench, Sam desperately tried to force her lungs to work.

She didn't need to think things over anymore. She knew what she had to do.

She picked up the card with Jack's scribbled, but heartfelt note, and took a deep breath before she made her way out of her lab.

She needed to see him, talk to him. She needed to do it now.

She would never forget Jack.

If she was honest, she never had.

* * *

 **And that's a wrap for February!**


	61. Planned Proposal

**Author's Note: Written for 'Wedding Planning Day' (1 March). I'd initially planned to write for a completely different holiday today, but this one won out.**

* * *

"How about Washington?"

"No," Jack responded immediately, pulling a face.

"Why not?"

"Because I'm having to relocate there for _work,_ Sam. It's going to be insufferable and I am not setting foot in the place until I absolutely have to."

"OK. What about Nevada?"

"Carter," he sighed. "I love you, but I refuse to get hitched in the marriage capital of the world."

"I was thinking more along the lines of finding a County Clerk."

Sam watched as her former commanding officer folded his arms in front of his chest and stared, daring her to challenge his statement again. So, naturally, she rolled her eyes.

"I don't want a fuss, Jack."

"Neither do I."

"Then why are we arguing about this?"

"We're not arguing. It's called a difference of opinion."

"You practicing that kind of diplomacy for Washington?"

"Ha ha," he quipped, but couldn't help smiling at the smirk playing around Sam's lips.

"So, what do you suggest we do?"

Jack waggled his eyebrows and stepped closer as he wrapped his arms around her waist. "Why don't we just do it here?"

"I mean our wedding, Jack."

"So do I," he murmured. "Kind of."

With a light chuckle, Sam let her hands rest on his chest.

"Look," Jack offered. "We have a couple of weeks before you're due to report to Area 51. What if –"

Sam shook her head fervently. "No."

"No?"

"You have to be in Washington on Monday morning. I want us to get married before you leave."

"Can't wait to have your wicked way with me, eh, Carter?"

"It's a bit late for that," she mumbled, as she flushed a deep red and Jack laughed.

One of his hands gently cupped the side of her face and his expression softened. "I was serious, you know – about having the wedding here. Especially as Hammond will be in town."

When Sam's eyebrows rose in surprise, Jack winced. "Yeah, he wanted to keep it quiet – to surprise you all," he shrugged. "But he plans to spend some time with Kayla and Tessa as well, before he accompanies me to D.C."

He watched patiently as the woman in his arms digested the news.

"When does General Hammond's flight arrive?"

"Thursday. Late."

Sam nods slowly. "OK."

"OK?"

"Yeah," she says. "OK."

"Well, OK then," he replies, looking for any sign that she didn't want to do this. Finding none, he placed a kiss on her temple and whispered, "Let me call Hammond. Give him the heads up."

"And I'll call Daniel, Teal'c and Cassie."

"Sounds good."

He pulled back to see Sam smiling, but studying him intently. "So…" she whispered.

"So?"

"We're really doing this?"

"From this day forward," he grinned widely, right before he kissed her.

* * *

 **A/N: For the record, I have absolutely nothing against Vegas, or the chapels in the various hotels or along the strip. :)**


	62. Old Adage

**Author's Note:** **Written for 'Old Stuff Day' (2 March), "a day to appreciate some of the old stuff knocking about the house." ;)**

* * *

Jack barely had enough time to close the front door and turn, before Sam looped her arms around his neck and pressed her lips to his.

He let his briefcase fall to the floor as his owns arms wrapped around her and he pulled her close.

He could get used to a welcome home like this, he thought. The grin that was on his lips soon disappeared however when he felt his back slam against the door.

"Oh! _Ow_ –"

Sam's lips were quickly on his again and muffled the rest of his moan – but then he felt it.

"Carter," he mumbled as he broke the kiss. "As much as I –"

He hissed at the sudden contact of her body pressing against his and he closed his eyes.

"You need to stop."

She pulled back suddenly and frowned. "What? Why?"

He took in her flushed appearance, swollen pink lips, hair slightly mussed and thought about risking the consequences. However, the twinge in his back was a swift reminder as to why it would be a bad idea.

When Sam leaned in to kiss him again, it took all of his restraint to pull away.

"Easy, Sam. I can't –" He sighed, then grimaced apologetically. "I'm not exactly a young man anymore."

"You're not old."

 _"Hey!"_ He retorted defensively. "I never said I was _old_."

"Fine. But your stamina's still pretty good – for someone who isn't exactly young anymore –"

"Uh... thanks. I think? But that's not what I –"

"And it's never disappointing –"

"I just meant –"

"But if you need a break, we can –"

 _"Carter!"_ He barked. "For crying out loud! All I was going to say was I think I put my back out again when I hit the door."

"Oh."

An awkward silence fell for a few seconds before he noticed Sam blushing.

"So, the other stuff," she hedged quietly.

"Oh, it's more than satisfactory," he grinned. "But the hallway just isn't gonna happen tonight. I'm sorry."

"It's OK," she smiled. "It's not like it's the first time this has happened."

"Gee, _thanks_ , Sam."

When she giggled, he pulled her close and dropped a kiss into her hair.

"Do you want to know what I think?" She mumbled against his chest a moment later.

"I don't know," he admitted uncertainly. "Do I?"

"I still think you're hot."

"Yeah?"

He felt her nod before she added: "And you're fine just the way you are."

"So, you don't mind the dodgy knees, or back, or shoulder?"

"No, Jack," she smiled. "I don't."

"Huh."

She pulled back and met his gaze. "Now, can we go back to what we were doing a minute ago?"

His eyes suddenly darkened and he nodded enthusiastically. "Bedroom. Now," he mumbled as he reached for her hand.

He caught Sam rolling her eyes before she turned away from him.

"What? It's not my fault you married an old man, Carter," he smirked.

"I thought you said you weren't old."

"Maybe I just want you to stroke my ego again."

Still smirking, he watched as Sam turned to face him before she slowly stepped forward and let her lips brush against his ear.

"Whatever you say, _sir_ ," she whispered playfully before she entwined her fingers with his and pulled him towards the bedroom.


	63. Fever's Fool

**Author's Note: Written for 'What If Cats and Dogs Had Opposable Thumbs Day' (3 March).**

* * *

Sam pulled the flap of the tent back as Daniel pressed a damp cloth against the colonel's forehead.

"How's he doing?"

"Still the same," he replied, not looking up from his task. "What did Janet say?"

Carefully stepping inside the tent, Sam crouched down at the other side of her commanding officer and let her eyes roam over his face before she answered Daniel.

"She's happy now that it's just a fever." At her friend's questioning look, she sighed. "Both SG-3 and SG-11 have come down with similar symptoms over the past two days."

"Wasn't Jack with SG-3?"

"Yeah," she nodded. "They were training the new recruits earlier this week."

"So, if it's just a fever, can we bring him home?"

She shook her head. "No. Whilst Janet's ruled out the possibility of an alien infection, the colonel's temperature is still too high. He needs rest in order to fight whatever this is. We can't risk moving him until it starts to come down."

"How long is that going to take?"

"Hopefully, sometime within the next few hours."

Daniel sighed softly and Sam gave him a sympathetic smile. She could understand his frustration and disappointment at the situation. The team had gated to PXY-572 four days ago for a routine exploratory mission. The planet was uninhabited, but initial readings from the planet had indicated the presence of naquadah in the soil, so SG-1 had been assigned to find out more. However, during the first night of their stay, the colonel had started to fall ill. He had made a throwaway comment about a headache, which wasn't really like him, and then a high temperature and confusion as to where he was or what has happening, had soon followed.

The rest of the team had dialled home as soon as they realized something was wrong, but until they could rule out any potential alien illnesses, they'd been forced to stay on the planet, and abandon their original mission objective, as they took it in turns to keep an eye on their leader's condition, and report back regularly to the SGC and Doctor Fraiser.

"So... we're stuck here for another night?"

"Yes. Do you want to tell Teal'c and I'll take over here?"

Silently, Daniel handed her the cloth as he made his way towards the entrance of the tent to find their other teammate, but just before he stepped outside, he turned back to Sam.

"He's – ah – been asking questions again."

"What was it this time?"

"Oh, you know," he suddenly grinned. "Why is the sky blue? How long do fish wait to swim after they eat? And – my personal favorite – why don't cats and dogs have opposable thumbs?"

Sam released a long breath but couldn't quite hide her own amusement. Her CO had been saying some pretty random things thanks to his fever.

"Carter?"

The groggy sound of his voice broke the silence and she turned to look at him while Daniel used the disturbance to quickly disappear outside the tent.

"Yes, sir," she said as she pressed a fresh, damp cloth against his skin.

"It's cold."

"I know, sir, but we need to keep you cool for a little longer."

"M'fine."

She placed a hand on his arm and gave him a light squeeze. "I know," she appeased. "Go back to sleep."

"Not tired."

Sam bit back a grin at the sight before her. The colonel was already halfway to unconsciousness again, when his eyes suddenly snapped open but when Sam looked closer, she could see his eyes were glassy.

"Carter? That you?"

"Yeah," she answered softly.

"Why do people say 'sleep like a baby' when babies only sleep for like, two hours at a time?"

"I – uh –" She wondered, briefly, about explaining the saying but quickly realized she'd be wasting her time, so she decided to be honest.

It wasn't like he was going to remember in the morning anyway. "I think you need to give that brain of yours a rest, sir."

"It hurts," he mumbled after a few moments. "Feels like Road Runner's having a party... in m'head."

Instinctively, Sam reached out and let her thumb gently smooth the frown that had appeared between his eyebrows.

"S'nice."

She smiled softly at the colonel's slurred confession, and decided to risk letting her thumb trace lightly over his brow and down his cheek. "That's good. Now rest, sir. That's an order."

Sam continued to watch as his breathing started to even out, her hand returning to his forehead, but just when she thought he'd fallen asleep again, he stirred slightly.

"Carter?"

She bit back a sigh. She _really_ needed him to rest. "Yes, sir?"

"Do you think cats and dogs should have opposable thumbs?"

* * *

 **March is not giving me an easy time where these holidays are concerned...**


	64. Symbiotic Syntax

**Author's Note: Written for 'Grammar Day' (4 March). I had initially started writing something for 'Marching Band Day' but that just started to spiral completely out of control…**

* * *

Jack watched the two Jaffa retreat from the cell he'd been thrown into and sighed. When he was sure they were out of earshot, he started to examine the small space again to find a way out.

"They're Horus Guards."

"Fascinating," Jack replied half-heartedly as he gave the metal bars a final tug. When they didn't budge, he turned, leaned against them and folded his arms across his chest. He stared down at Jacob who was sitting on the floor, his back against the wall, and seemingly unperturbed by their current situation.

"It is, actually," the older man replied as he met Jack's gaze. "When Heru'ur was killed by Apophis, he easily absorbed those forces into his own. But, when Apophis died, it was believed that those forces were divided among the System Lords."

"Didn't Cronus use those Hornet guys?"

"It's _Horus_ , Jack," he corrected with a deadpan expression on his face. "And yes. But since Cronus is dead as well, I doubt it's him we're dealing with."

"So…"

"So," Jacob repeated. "We now know that it was the lower-ranking Goa'uld's that amassed the remaining Jaffa. Goa'uld's like Osiris and Tanith."

"Oh, this does not sound good," he groaned as he moved to the other side of the cell and sat down opposite Jacob.

"No," his companion agreed. "Because we also know they've been working for a more powerful Goa'uld who the System Lords long thought to be dead – Anubis."

"So, we're dealing with his goons. Well, that's just great," Jack mumbled. He let the silence fill the space for a few seconds before he added, "And it's _whom_."

"Do you have to do that?"

"Hmm?"

"Correct my grammar," Jacob clarified. "You did it a few months ago as well – after Anubis' mothership crashed into the ocean. What's that all about?"

"Well," Jack said, drawing in a breath. "For one, you ended that sentence with a preposition."

When Jacob glared at him, Jack couldn't help but smile.

"I don't know how Sam puts up with you."

"I'm an affable kinda guy," he shrugged. "Not my fault you're so uptight."

"Excuse me?"

"What?"

"I'm uptight? _Me?_ "

"The Tok'ra aren't exactly known for their sense of humor. Nor their... joie de vivre," Jack offered.

"I have a very keen enjoyment of life, thank you very much."

"Even in this prison cell?"

"Yes. And even with you as company."

"What did I tell ya?" Jack said wryly as he held his arms out wide. "Affable."

"Hmm."

"Ask Carter if you don't believe me," he replied offhandedly as he adjusted the cuffs on his jacket. Then, without warning, he felt Jacob's gaze land on him and he tried not to let his sudden discomfort show.

"Yes, speaking of my daughter," Jacob spoke moments later – and a little too casually for Jack's liking, "Still in love with her?"

The colonel's head snapped up and he spluttered out a response. " _What the hell, Jacob?"_ _  
_  
"It's a simple question," he shrugged.

"What? _No!_ I don't – I'm not – we're –"

"Don't play innocent with me."

" _For crying out loud!_ Carter's –"

"Uh… guys?"

Jack froze at the interruption. "Daniel? That you?"

"Yeah." The air suddenly felt heavy and he closed his eyes at his friend's next words. "Sam's here too. We're – ah – we'll get you out of there now."

"Um, hi. Sir."

"Crap," he whispered. Slowly, he turned towards the front of the cell, pausing briefly to glare at Jacob – and the smug expression now on his face.

"Carter," he greeted as evenly as he could manage.

"Teal'c's retrieving a staff weapon from one of the guards," she said quietly, studiously avoiding his gaze. "We're going to have to blow the doors."

"Oh, take your time, Carter. Your dad and I were just… getting reacquainted. It's been a while."

"Yes, sir." She finally met his tight smile with one of her own and mouthed a quick 'sorry' in his direction, to which his smile softened.

However, it soon disappeared altogether when he felt Jacob come to a stop beside him. He risked a glance to his left.

"How's that for joie de vivre?" Jacob grinned.

"Have I ever told you how much I hate the Tok'ra?"

With a snort, Jacob turned his attention towards the other members of SG-1 but kept his voice low, for Jack's ears only.

"This conversation isn't over, Jack."

"It never is, Dad," he sighed.


	65. Absinthe, For My Sins

**Author's Note: Written for 'Absinthe Day' (5 March). Set very early season 1.**

* * *

Jack had almost completed his check on the perimeter when his radio crackled to life.

"Jack?"

"Daniel?"

"Uh… we've got a slight problem here." He straightened at the archaeologist's response and immediately turned in the direction of the village. "It's Captain Carter."

Jack broke into a light jog but all he could hear was music and the sound of people celebrating in the distance. There was no suggestion of any trouble so he wondered just what exactly the issue was.

When he'd left to check the surroundings, everything had been fine. The people of P3X-595 were friendly and more than happy to discuss a potential trade deal with SG-1. However, it was the team's first proper mission together, so he was still wary about letting his guard down on an alien planet.

As he neared the village square, he caught sight of Daniel running towards him.

"What happened?"

"There's been a slight, uh, miscommunication."

"What kind of miscommunication?"

"Um, well, the local leaders were asking about Sam's role within the team and – uh –"

"Spit it out, Daniel."

"Well, I was explaining that she was free to fight alongside us and to do a job that's typically been carried out by men, but it turns out that the word 'free' means something else here."

Jack started walking again. "What did you do?"

"Nothing!" He answered defensively. "When the leaders heard she was 'free', they said her status needed to be recognized. They offered her one of their local beverages as a gift and I thought it'd be rude to object, so–"

"You made her drink it?"

"Not exactly. I just... suggested that it might be a good idea to help build relations."

"Where is Captain Carter?"

"She's still in the village. Teal'c – Teal'c's trying to... diffuse the situation."

"And what _is_ the situation?"

Daniel's sigh caught his attention and he stopped once more. "Daniel?"

"When I said Sam was free, they believed it meant she was single. Or unclaimed. The offering – it's meant to help her find a mate."

"How?"

"Liquid luck," Daniel supplied guiltily.

"Well, that's going to happen over my dead body," Jack fired back. "So, we'll just grab the captain and – what the hell!"

Jack stopped abruptly as he entered the village and his gaze landed on a semi-naked Samantha Carter who was standing on top of a table and performing – much to the delight of the local males – what could only be described as some kind of interpretive dance.

 _"Captain Carter!"_

Sam spun around at his barked order and he quickly stormed towards her, but just as he reached her, she jumped down from the table and into his arms. He managed to hold her upright and plucked the cup she was holding from her hand. The liquid inside was bright green and Jack pulled a face at the odour. He reached around Sam to place it on the table, right before she flung her arms around his neck and grinned.

"Sir! Are you enjoying the party?"

He quickly extricated himself from Sam's hold and pulled her against his chest, as he muttered impulsively, "Not like this."

As he divested of his jacket and draped it around the captain's shoulders, he could see a number of the men now looking seriously unimpressed by the fact that their evening's entertainment had come to an abrupt end, but he didn't really care – especially when Sam started to squirm in his arms and brushed against certain parts of his body.

"Daniel," he snapped. "Give me a hand here."

"I'm a little busy, Jack."

The colonel glanced over his shoulder to see Daniel gesturing towards the irate villagers.

"They aren't happy that you've interfered with their customs."

"The captain isn't here for their entertainment."

"I know," he replied. "But what do you want me to say? They think she's unclaimed and –"

"She's –" Jack stumbled over his answer when Sam moved again and he felt her body press against his. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath.

"I don't care what you tell them," he finally said, as he slid an arm around Sam's back and another under her legs. He lifted her easily and held her close to his chest. "I'm taking her back to camp," he added as he headed in the direction he'd just come from.

"Jack."

He'd only taken a few steps when he paused and half-turned back to face Daniel. Sam was still writhing in his arms and his anger was increasing with each second that passed. He wasn't sure who he was angry with, however, but he glared at the locals before he met Daniel's eye.

"Tell them she belongs to me," he growled.

He didn't wait to see – or hear – Daniel's reaction, but he could feel his friend's gaze burning into the back of his head as he walked away, Sam still held tightly in his arms.

* * *

 **I kind of wanted this entry to be more fun and light-hearted than it turned out. I also seem to enjoy giving Sam a hard time in these fics...**


	66. Good Graces

**Author's Note: Written for 'White Chocolate Cheesecake Day' (6 March). Set during season 7, right before Grace.**

* * *

Jack let the glass door slide closed and made his way to stand beside Sam on the deck. He followed her gaze and stared up at the night sky.

"You need to tell me your secrets, Carter."

She turned towards him, uncertainty written on her face. "Sir?"

"Why are you the only one allowed a slice of cheesecake?"

Sam's frown deepened at the question. "I… have no idea what you're talking about, sir."

"Teal'c," he replied, throwing an arm in the air. "He brought three desserts for team night."

When he caught Sam's nod, he added: "But we're only allowed to eat two of them. The cheesecake is his, apparently."

"I still don't understand."

"Well, he proceeded to cut a slice and left it on a plate. Then he said it was yours and – in no uncertain terms – that I was to touch it… so, what's a guy to do to get some cheesecake around here?"

Sam chuckled softly at his petulant tone. "Maybe it's because I like the dessert, sir."

"Hmm," he said non-committedly. "Personally, I just think you're his favorite."

Sam ducked her chin but couldn't quite hide her smile. After a few seconds, she returned her gaze to the sky and Jack leaned his elbows on the rail, mirroring her position and gently nudged her shoulder with his. "Everything alright?"

She nodded in response, but didn't say anything, so Jack used the opportunity to study her. It was a cold evening and the tip of Sam's nose was red, a testament to how the considerably the temperature had dropped, but it was still a nice evening. The sky too was clear but his attention was focused on his second-in-command, rather than the stars above.

"It's cold out here."

"I know. Although my sweater seems to be doing a pretty good job. It's nice and warm," she smiled as she tugged at the hem of the sweater-type garment Teal'c had brought her back from his most recent visit to Chulak.

"That's good," he grinned before he gave her a quick onceover. "I like it, by the way. The color – it suits you."

She pulled a face. "It reminds me of our BDUs."

"Yeah? You look good in those too. What's your point?"

The traitorous words had left his lips before he could stop them, and it was only Sam's sharp intake of breath that made him realize he had to try and quickly diffuse the situation.

"So," he cleared his throat awkwardly. "You all set for your next jaunt around the galaxy?"

She smiled at his question. "Of course, sir."

He nodded and pursed his lips as he thought over whether to ask his next question or not – but the woman standing to his right seemed to read his mind.

"Everything will be fine, sir. I'll be with Colonel Ronson and his team. It'll actually be really interesting to see how the Prometheus performs using the Al'kesh –"

"Ah, Carter! It's a team night. That means no work."

"Yes, sir."

"Sir," he mumbled, apparently unable to help himself. "That sounds like work to me," he added quietly.

Sam huffed out a laugh before she turned to face him. "Sorry, Jack," she whispered.

He nodded, more definitively than before, but refused to look at her because the sound of his name on her lips made him want to pull her into his arms and towards his bedroom, but since that option was out of the question, he forced himself to keep his gaze on his hands.

It was selfish and completely unreasonable, but a part of him didn't want her to go on this trip. He couldn't explain it, other than his gut told him that it was a bad idea.

"Stay safe out there."

"I'll do my best."

His jaw tightened at her words, because he knew it was the only thing she could say. She couldn't – and wouldn't – promise that she'd obey his command because every time they stepped through the Stargate, they had no idea what would happen.

He sighed heavily and ignored the concerned expression he knew was on Sam's face. Instead, he reached across, looped his arm around her shoulders and pulled her closer. She instinctively turned into the embrace, her arms circling his waist.

He rested his cheek on the top of her head and turned slightly so his nose was buried in her hair. He inhaled deeply and tried not to shiver when he felt Sam move and her breath tickled his throat and neck.

"Your cheesecake will be getting lonely," he murmured after a few moments, and he smiled when Sam buried her face into his fleece to try and muffle her snort.

He gave her shoulders a quick squeeze before he dropped a kiss into her hair and let her go.

"We'll be waiting for you to come home," he murmured.

"I know," she whispered. "Thank you, sir."

* * *

 **I've received a lot of reviews over the past couple of days, some of which I'm not able to answer to privately, so I just wanted to say here that I am continually amazed and humbled and appreciative for the support you have all shown towards this series. You have no idea how much it helps me continue, especially on days where I'm tired, or my health isn't great, or I don't have a notion as to what to write! Thank you.**


	67. Grounded

**Author's Note: Written for 'Cereal Day' (7 March).**

* * *

"Good morning, Carter."

Sam glanced up and saw her commanding officer staring at her, a strange smile playing around his lips.

"Morning, sir."

"Mind if I join you?"

Her brow creased as she looked at him with a slightly confused expression. "Of course not, sir."

The smile that he was wearing remained as he slid his tray onto the table before he picked the seat opposite Sam. His eyes never left hers, nor did his smile fade. If anything, he was even more smug and satisfied looking than before, and the thought made her nervous. She forced herself to look away, but her gaze landed on the food on his tray and her confusion increased.

"Something wrong, Carter?"

She met his gaze and he raised a brow in question. "No, sir."

He observed her for a few more seconds before he started to eat his breakfast, but only managed two mouthfuls before he could take it no longer.

"Do you want to share?"

"Hmm?"

"You've been eying my tray ever since I sat down. What's wrong?"

"Oh. Um –"

"Carter?"

"Are you feeling OK, sir?"

"Yeah. Why?"

"Never mind."

 _"Carter,"_ he cajoled.

"Well, with all due respect, sir… do you even like oatmeal?"

His gaze shifted slightly before he sighed. "Not really."

"Then why –"

"We've been over this already," he interrupted tiredly. "And it's because all I've eaten for _three months_ , Carter, is Froot Loops. Even that is too much for _me_ to handle."

"OK," she said, nodding slowly. "I can understand that, but –"

"What?"

"I just find it strange that from the choices you have, you'd select the oatmeal."

"It's bland and boring," he shrugged. "And I've had enough excitement in my life for a while, thanks to those damn time loops."

At his words, Sam straightened in her seat. "Really? What kind of excitement?"

Jack paused, a spoonful of oatmeal halfway to his mouth, when he carefully set it back in the bowl.

"Nothing," he answered a little too defensively, then winced. "OK, so maybe I made a... discovery."

"Your report said you helped Daniel translate the text on the altar."

He nodded and he tried not to fidget when Sam pursed her lips and narrowed her gaze. "But that's not what you're talking about."

Suddenly, she leaned in closer. "You did something during the loops, didn't you?"

"What makes you think that?"

"I know you, sir. Do you really expect me to believe that translating some Ancient text was exciting?"

He pulled a face at her question, and then he caught the glint in her eye, right before she started grinning.

"What did you do?"

"That," he said airily. "Would be classified, Carter."

"Are you serious?"

He lifted a shoulder in a half-shrug.

"You aren't going to tell me?"

"Nope."

"Why not?"

Jack couldn't help but smirk at her indignant tone. He leaned back in his seat and let his gaze roam over Carter's face. Her eyes were wide and blue, just like they were during the loop he'd resigned and let his hands cup her face before he leaned in and –

"That's another thing," Sam said, unwittingly interrupting his thoughts. "Why do you keep smiling at me like that now?"

His smile momentarily faltered as panic settled in his stomach, but it was quickly replaced with an entirely different feeling, so he decided to take a risk. Pushing his tray aside, he mirrored Sam's position and grinned as he recalled the way her lips felt against his. With his face now just inches from hers, he lowered his voice so only she could hear.

"Because it was you, Samantha Carter, who helped me make my exciting discovery."


	68. Close Cluster

**Author's Note: Written for 'Peanut Cluster Day' (7 March). This is probably way OOC, but the muse insisted… ;)** **Set sometime during season 7. Either just before Evolution (so pre-Pete) – or, if we want to pretend that he didn't exist at all (which I'm totally on board with), then we'll say before the events of Lost City. It doesn't particularly matter… just when S/J were at their most flirtatious, because there were so many great moments between them during this season.**

* * *

"Oh, I don't think so, sir," Sam retorts as she gets to her feet and moves towards the center of the living room.

Perhaps, Jack thinks, the way she smiles at him and the way she seems fully comfortable in her own skin, while at his home, is testament to the amount of beer the team has consumed this evening. He doesn't particularly mind, however, as they've had a tough run of missions lately so they deserve to blow off a little steam, but he also knows that if they were just slightly more _that_ side of sober, they wouldn't be exchanging heated glances over his coffee table, nor would he be silently cursing the fact that the only thing currently stopping him from leading Sam towards his bedroom, is the fact that Daniel and Teal'c are also present.

However, he refuses to let his second-in-command dominate this argument and in one move, he jumps up from the armchair and grabs her right hand before he turns her so that her back is now flush against his chest. He lets one of his arms snake across her waist, while the other holds her arm down by her side. She wriggles against him for a few seconds, but he just tightens his grip.

"That sounds dangerously close to insubordination, _Major_."

He feels Sam press against him just slightly before she answers. "I honestly do not care, _Colonel_. I _will_ fight you over this."

"Then," he replies, his voice lowering as he lets his lips hover by her ear. "Either way, it sounds like I win, Carter."

He smirks when he catches sight of the deep blush now on Sam's face, but he's stopped just short of saying something he thinks he might not fully regret when he hears Daniel hiccup.

He turns his head slightly and watches as the archaeologist – rather unsteadily – gets to his feet and slowly blinks a few times in their direction as if he's trying to decide how many versions of his teammates he sees and which ones he actually wants to address.

"You know what?" Daniel suddenly says animatedly, waving a hand around. "I know – how we can – we can settle this."

Then, with a surprising amount of speed for someone so drunk, he swipes the last chocolate peanut cluster on the plate, before proceeding to shove half of it into his mouth.

 _"Daniel!"_

"Hmm?"

"That was mine!"

"It was actually _mine_ , Carter."

"No, it was –"

"O'Neill. Major Carter. Doctor Jackson."

Jack turns at the sound of his name to find Teal'c standing in the doorway, an eyebrow raised in surprise – or disapproval – he isn't quite sure. But it's only when Sam and Daniel stop arguing and they too look to their teammate, that Jack realizes they should probably call it a night. Especially when Teal'c's gaze drops to the now empty plate and annoyance flashes in his eyes.

"Uh, Teal'c?" He hedges, his arms still firmly around Sam. "About those peanut clusters... we're gonna need you to make more."

* * *

 **I didn't have much time today to write. I'm sorry.**


	69. Shades Of Hurt

**Author's Note: Written for 'Get Over It Day' (9 March).**

* * *

When the doorbell rings, he's expecting it to be Maybourne or somebody else of an equally shady standing. What he doesn't expect, is to come face to face with Carter, and he's to work hard to keep his surprise hidden.

"Carter."

"Hi, sir."

"Retired."

"Right," she utters quietly.

"What do you want?" He asks abruptly after a beat of silence.

"I, ah, I came to talk to you."

He sees her obvious discomfort at the admission, but he can't talk to her so he tilts his head slightly and shrugs. "I'm not interested."

Sam's brow furrows in confusion and concern, and there's a flash of hurt in her eyes as he stares unforgivingly.

"I think I deserve an explanation."

"I don't owe you anything, Carter."

"I was your second-in-command for three years, si–"

He glares at her slip-up and when she mumbles an apology, he stands tall and folds his arms across his chest.

"You need to leave. Now."

"I'm no longer under your command," she counters. "You can't order me to do anything."

"Carter," he hears himself warn, but before he can say anything further, Sam pushes her way into his house.

He bites back a curse as he closes the door and he takes a few seconds to collect his thoughts. When he finds her, Sam is pacing up and down his living room.

"Don't be getting comfortable," he quips as he swipes a bottle of beer from the side table and takes a drink.

"Why are you doing this?"

"I think I made my thoughts on the matter pretty clear during the briefing."

"Yes," she hesitates. "You did, but –"

"That technology can help defend Earth against the Goa'uld – yet no-one wants to know."

"That's not true," she argues as she spins around to face him.

"Don't lie to me, Carter," he snarls, ignoring the irony in his argument.

"It isn't as simple as that, sir," she explains. "The Tollans –"

"The Tollans are sitting there nicely protected from the Goa'uld. Well, good for them," he mutters sarcastically. "But if they're just going to sit on their asses and refuse to help us when they have the resources to do so, then they are _not_ our allies."

"Is that what you really believe?"

He throws his arms up in the air in a 'what do you think' gesture as Sam slowly shakes her head.

"So, that's it? You're just giving up?"

"No. I've said my piece," he replies as he sets his beer back onto the table and takes a step closer to his former teammate.

"The Goa'uld are still out there, Carter, and Earth is a sitting duck. If they were to attack tomorrow, we'll either be dead or made into hosts. But let me tell you this," he adds, taking another step closer, a dangerous tone to his words. "At least my conscious will be clear."

"You stole alien technology, sir."

"Oh, do me a favor," he retorts.

"It doesn't make sense," she continues, talking over him. "After everything we've been through as a team, the people we've met and the battles we've won... You've saved countless lives, sir. The difference you've made –" She stops abruptly and Jack suspects her next words aren't what she planned to say. "My dad – and Cassie… Are you really just going to walk away from us?"

"What do you want me to say, Carter?"

"This isn't you, sir."

"Sam –"

 _"No,"_ she cuts in firmly, fire in her eyes. "I know you're a better man than this."

"That's where you're wrong!"

"I don't think I am."

"Well, fortunately, I don't have to give a damn what you think, anymore."

"I thought we were friends."

Again, he sees the hurt that he's caused flash in her eyes but as much as he hates himself right now, he needs her to hate him even more. So, he takes one final step towards her, their faces just inches apart. His words are careful, slow. Deliberate.

"I never once said we were friends."

He hears the bitterness in his voice and how the brutality of his words drives home the fact that he really isn't the man Sam thought he was. With his lips just millimeters from hers, he twists the knife in further.

"So, get over it, Carter," he growls. "And get the hell out of my house."

It takes a few seconds for Sam to move, and he's helpless as he watches her push by and leave without saying another word. The silence weighs heavy on his chest but it's nothing compared to the ache he feels when Sam slams the door behind her and he's left knowing there's a very distinct possibility that she's just walked out of his life forever.

* * *

 **I'm so sorry this is late. My internet cut out last night.**


	70. Pinball Wizard

**Author's Note: Written for 'Mario Day' (10 March).**

 **According to different sources, "Mario Day came about when it was noticed that when one marks the day Mar.10, it spells Mario. From then it just took off."**

 **So, Mario was actually first introduced in Nintendo's Donkey Kong in the early 1980s, but his name was Mr. Jumpman and he was a carpenter. Still, DK was the first arcade game I ever played... and that is my only excuse for this piece. Oh, and it's AU!**

* * *

"OK, Charlie," Jack called as he headed towards the kiosk. "I'm going to get more coins for the machine. Do not move, is that understood?"

He waited for a response, but Charlie was already engrossed in the arcade game, so he received a half-hearted nod in return. Rolling his eyes, Jack reached out and squeezed his son's shoulder affectionately. "Be right back, kiddo."

It was Charlie's ninth birthday and whilst it was usually a day for celebration, it was his first birthday without his mother, so Jack completely understood – and was also a little thankful – that all his son had asked for, was for the two of them to spend the day playing video games at the arcade. He glanced over his shoulder to check on Charlie and frowned as another boy, who was slightly taller and a year or two older, stood behind him and watched as he played his chosen game.

Jack kept one eye on them both as he waited for his change. He didn't sense any kind of trouble starting, but he had warned Charlie never to talk to strangers if he wasn't around to make sure it was safe. He quickly thanked the teen behind the counter and made his way towards the children when he heard the other boy speak.

"That's a hammer. If you jump there," he pointed at the screen, "it allows you to break the barrels and then you can climb the ladder."

As Jack slowed his pace, he watched Charlie follow the instructions carefully. He'd almost made it to the top platform on the screen but wasn't able to move his character quickly enough to avoid one of the barrels.

"It's OK," the boy said, giving him an encouraging smile. "You have another two lives."

Deciding to hang back for a moment, Jack leaned against one of the machines as the stranger patiently talked his son through the game. He thought he should be more annoyed by the intrusion, especially as it was someone else's busybody child, but he was just happy to see Charlie enjoying himself. A couple of minutes later, movement out of the corner of Jack's eye caught his attention and he glanced to his right to find a little girl of around four or five watching the boys with wide eyes. She was half-hidden behind somebody's leg, however, and as Jack let his gaze wander higher, he realized the girl was with a young – and incredibly attractive – woman. Without warning, Jack felt a strange twist in his chest. A feeling that only intensified when the woman suddenly looked away from the game and met his eye.

Slowly, she took a step closer and gave him an apologetic smile. "I'm sorry. I'd just managed to wrangle Lisa from one game," she said, looking down at the little girl to her right, "to see David's found another. If he's interrupting –"

"No. No, it's fine," Jack heard himself say. "He's, ah, he's probably doing a better job than I would be."

"Hmm," she answered distractedly. "It's his favorite."

Jack nodded, but at a sudden loss for words, he lifted his left hand to scratch the back of his neck and noticed the woman's eyes track the movement, and seemingly settle somewhere on his fingers. When the stranger realized she'd been caught staring, a light blush appeared on her cheeks, and Jack tried not to let his curiosity show. Instead, and deciding he'd nothing to risk, he nodded towards the kids.

"They yours?"

"My niece and nephew," she smiled. "What about you?"

"Yeah, Charlie's my son."

Her attention slid to Charlie for a few seconds. "He looks like you."

He was stopped from responding, however, when the music sounded from the machine. Charlie had reached the final level and, despite the kid's excitement, David patiently started to talk him through what he needed to do. Jack was impressed – both by the kid's knowledge of the game and of his treatment of Charlie.

"I taught him everything he knows."

He turned his head and frowned. "Huh?"

"The game," she said, gesturing towards the machine. Jack caught the glint in her eye and couldn't help but match her grin.

"It's Donkey Kong!"

"It's a classic," she argued, chuckling when he just shook his head.

They fell into a comfortable silence as Jack replayed their conversation over in his head and something peaked his interest. He wasn't sure if it was his place to ask, or if she'd even answer, but he shoved his hands into the pockets of his jeans and tried to act casual.

"So," he hedged. "How'd you end up teaching your niece and nephew arcade games?"

"I grew up with an older brother and his friends," she shrugged, but his confusion must have shown because she gave him a small smile and added, "Military brat."

"Ah." Jack raised a brow in surprise and quickly gave her another once over. "But you never joined?"

"No. Much to the disappointment of my father and brother."

"So, what? You decided to become some kind of pinball wizard instead?"

"Something like that," she laughed. "I get to be the cool aunt."

A chorus of cheers as the two boys exchanged a high-five drew their attention.

"Look, dad," Charlie grinned. "I did it!"

"Way to go, kiddo," he said as he ruffled his hair. "Make sure you thank your new friend here."

The adults exchanged another smile as the kids exchanged pleasantries and excited chatter over the game, but his good mood quickly vanished when the woman spoke.

"As much as we'd love to stay, we really have to go now, David."

The young boy glanced longingly at the machine before he nodded and moved towards his aunt.

"It was nice meeting you both," she said, before she grinned at Jack. "And if you want another classic to try, I'd recommend Space Invaders."

Then, placing one hand on David's shoulder and one on Lisa's, she carefully directed both children towards the exit.

"Hey," Jack called, waiting until she turned around to face him. "Does the cool aunt have a name?"

She ducked her chin before she met his eye, and with a smile he would not forget in a hurry, she answered, "Samantha. Samantha Carter."

"I'm Jack. O'Neill."

They held each other's gaze for a few seconds longer, before Sam's niece reached up and tugged on her hand.

"It was lovely to see you... Jack."

His breath caught at the sound of his name leaving her lips, but he could do nothing but watch as she left the arcade and his line of sight.

"Yeah," he finally whispered. "You too, Samantha."


	71. The Devil Is In The Detail

**Author's Note:** **Written for 'Napping Day' (11 March) and was inspired by a picture post on Twitter from season 3's Jolinar's Memories/The Devil You Know – with the scene where Daniel is asleep on one bench, Jack's lying on another and Sam's on another. (This fic takes place as the team are making their way back home).**

 **The conversation on Twitter essentially went: "She can tell that Jack's not sleeping well & and you know she wants to crawl up in that bunk with him… Daniel will never know, right? He sleeps like the dead."**

* * *

Sam jolts awake with a gasp and glances around. It's dim and quiet and cool, and it takes a few seconds for her to realize that she's on the teltak.

Her clothes are drenched with sweat and cling uncomfortably to her skin, and she can do nothing but let her head fall back against the crate she's been using for a makeshift bed and tries to take long, slow breaths.

Images flood her mind.

Snapshots of Jolinar's torture and her tryst with Bynaar.

Pictures of Apophis, revived from the dead – again.

Memories of her mother and father in happier times.

She chokes back tears as the emotions threaten to overwhelm her and she squeezes her eyes shut.

She can't panic. Not yet. Not until she's back home and can be by herself to fall apart, piece by piece.

Slowly, she opens her eyes and takes another look around. The compartment they're in is virtually empty, save for herself, Daniel and the colonel, both of whom are lying on separate bunks along the opposite wall. The doorway that connects the space to the cockpit of the ship is closed and Sam suspects either her father or Teal'c is responsible.

She figures they must be crowded into the space, especially with Martouf and Aldwin also on the other side of the door, but she doesn't particularly care. Not if it gives her and her teammates privacy and a quiet space to rest and try to recover from the hell they've endured.

Turning her head further to the left, her watches the guys. She hears Daniel's light snores as they fill the room and she smiles softly before she lets her gaze drift to her commanding officer. He's thrown an arm over his face so she can't quite see him, but she has a feeling that he isn't actually sleeping. His leg is healing as well as it can under the circumstances, but his breathing is a little too laborious and strained, and she knows it has nothing to do with the injuries he's received on Netu.

"Go back to sleep, Carter," he suddenly mumbles, not moving an inch, and Sam starts at the order.

"Yes, sir," she whispers, feeling her cheeks grow red hot at having been caught watching him.

She closes her eyes, but the fear of those flashbacks returning is something she isn't yet ready for, so she sits up and swings her legs over the side of the bench. Getting to her feet, she paces up and down the small space as quietly as she can.

"'Sup?"

Sam glances over to see the colonel still hasn't moved, so she finds herself making her way over to him and hovers by the bunk.

"I can't sleep."

He lets his arm fall away from his face as he meets her gaze. "Want to talk about it?"

She abruptly shakes her head and chooses to ignore the concern that flashes in his eyes in response. She's just about to say it doesn't matter and she will try to get back to sleep when she feels his fingers loop around hers and gently pull her closer. She goes, willingly, before she sits down on the floor and pulls her knees to her chest. With one arm wrapped around her legs, she lets the other rest on the edge of the bunk, her fingers now entwined with the colonel's.

He increases the pressure on her fingers just slightly and she finds herself shrugging at his silent question.

"I think I just need to get out of here," she mumbles. "Get some fresh air."

But she doesn't tell him it's because she feels like she is suffocating. Or the fact that she just wants home to shower. To stand under the scalding water as it beats down on her skin in the small chance that it'll wash away not only the echoes left behind from the Blood of Sokar, but also the impressions Bynarr's touch has left on her skin.

She isn't able to repress a shudder at the memory.

"Cold?"

His voice is low and controlled, as if he is using every ounce of strength he has to not let his real emotions break through, but when she meets his gaze, she sees the battle unfold. Anger fights for dominance over concern, while there's something else – something Sam isn't sure she can – or wants – to identify lurking in his eyes.

But, despite knowing that she isn't cold, she finds herself nodding. Until she feels his fingers twitch against hers again and it's almost enough to break her resolve. She closes her eyes as the bile rises in her throat and she swallows hard as the tears threaten to fall. She's too busy trying to claw back that final shred of light that's being overtaken by the darkness, that she misses the brief stricken look on her commanding officer's face.

"Maybe I do need more sleep," she sighs. She starts to pull her hand away so that she can get to her feet, but his grip tightens around her fingers and she finds herself rooted to the spot.

"C'mere," he mumbles as he carefully shuffles closer to the wall and after a moment's hesitation, Sam crawls onto the bench beside him.

Wary of knocking his bad leg, she curls against his side as best as she can, and it's only when she feels his arm wrap around her back and pull her closer that she starts to relax.

She lets one of her arms settle on his chest and from her position she can feel every breath he takes, his chest rising and falling, rising and falling, lulling her closer to sleep. The heat from his body slowly warms the chill that has settled in her bones, and he smells of sweat, and ash and whatever it is that is uniquely _him_ and it gives her comfort.

She feels her eyes grow heavy, and as the colonel buries his nose in her hair, he angles his lips next to her ear.

"Get some sleep, Sam," he whispers and for the first time since leaving Netu behind, she's not afraid to follow the order.


	72. Map Your Wares

**Author's Note: Written for 'Girl Scout Day' (12 March).**

* * *

Jack studied their surroundings and silently cursed the natives of PCZ-884.

They may have been one of the friendlier civilizations the team had come across in recent times, but they were also one of the more primitive. However, the planet had an abundance of Naquadah and while the locals had no use for it themselves, they were more than willing to trade with SG-1 in exchange for some medical aid and training.

It was one of the easiest negotiations to date. So, naturally, Jack knew it wouldn't last.

And he was right.

He knew. As soon as the chief leader handed him and Carter a map, gave them a blessing and sent them on their merry way, he just knew that it was all going to go down.

Or upside down. Whatever.

Because the people of '884 had failed to tell the two officers about the various traps hidden along the trail towards the Naquadah mine, and by the time he'd realized his mistake, it'd been too late.

He hadn't seen anything out of the ordinary, but then again, he had been distracted by the sound of Carter's voice. He still wasn't quite sure what they had been discussing; he just liked to listen.

So, by the time he'd stepped on the rope, the ground quickly shifted from under his feet and he found himself suspended fifteen feet into the air. As he tried to figure out his new bearings, a strange noise from the ground drew his attention, and he twisted to see a worried, yet slightly amused, looking Samantha Carter.

"Don't even think about it, Carter."

"Sir?"

"I mean it – I know you."

She sighed. "Well, with all due respect –"

"I don't want to hear it, OK?"

"But –"

"Carter! Just... just don't."

"Yes, sir."

He nodded in response. Or tried to anyway. It was a little hard to nod or do much of anything when he was hanging upside down from a tree branch with a rope snagged around his right ankle. He tried to move and see if there was any give with the rope.

There wasn't.  
 _  
_ _"Damn it all to hell!"_

He threw his arms out by his sides in frustration and caught another glimpse of Carter as she deliberately avoided his gaze. He noticed, however, her shoulders start to move up and down.

"Carter? Didn't I give you an order?"

"Sir?"

"I thought I expressly ordered you _not_ to laugh."

She met his gaze but he couldn't stay mad at her. Even upside down, the sight of Sam smiling at him was still one of the most beautiful things he'd ever seen.

"I'm glad this amuses you so, major," he quipped.

"I think I can get you down, sir," she replied as she moved to his right. "But it might be a bumpy landing."

" _Might_ be?"

"OK. It _will_ be."

"For crying out loud."

"I'm sorry, sir."

"Not your fault, Carter."

"No, sir. It's yours."

"Excuse me?"

"I said you should listen to me."

"Hmm," he answered noncommittally.

"And I told you not to laugh, but –"

"But I did. Why don't you just say 'I told you so', one more time?"

"I told you I used to be a Girl Scout," she retorted. "I even had a badge for –"

 _"Easy,"_ he warned. "And for the record, the map was in an alien language, Carter. Neither of us could read it properly."

"But I said –"

"Carter."

"You were –"

 _"Carter."_

"Holding the map upside down!"

"Yes, I know," he finally snapped. "Now would you just get me the hell down from here?"

"Yes, sir."

"And Sam?"

"Yes?"

"Not a word to Daniel or Teal'c," he ordered. "Understood?"

At her silence, he looked down and had to bite back a sigh as she smirked.

"Yes, sir."

He was never going to live this down.


	73. Brilliant Minds And Beautiful Smiles

**Author's Note: Written for 'Smart & Sexy Day' (13 March).**

* * *

Jack O'Neill is not too proud to admit that he has a type. Tall, athletic, blonde.

He also likes women who are smart, because while he might enjoy playing the fool or acting stupid, he's anything but, and to him, there is something really hot about a woman who can render him speechless with just her intelligence alone.

What he isn't as keen on, however? Scientists.

At least, that is what he _used_ to think, until he laid eyes on Captain Samantha Carter.

Well, to be honest, he doesn't like scientists. He doesn't trust them. But he thinks he could make an exception for the good captain.

Except he isn't going to let her, or anyone else know that yet. After all, he's made such a big show of complaining about how inconvenient and annoying they are that he can't exactly turn around and say, "Excuse me, George? Everything I just said about scientists? I take it back!"

Even though he wants to. He also _really_ wants to lean across the briefing room table and accept Samantha's offer to arm wrestle.

There's just something about her that intrigues and impresses him in equal measure, and he starts to wonder just what, exactly, that thing is when he hears Hammond start to reiterate the details of their mission.

He figures he should listen but he knows what this mission entails, so he lets his attention stay on Captain Carter.

Jack knows he's staring – and he knows that he has to stop – but she keeps drawing him in. Like a moth to a flame.

That is, until Kawalsky nudges him in the ribs.

When he looks to his right, he receives a pointed look in return, and with a slight frown and a renewed focus, Jack turns his attention back to his briefing folder.

He will not look across the table. He _won't_.

It's better to be safe than sorry.

Even if he is a complete sucker for women who are smart and sexy.


	74. Little White Lie

**Author's Note: Written for 'White Day' (14 March). The idea behind this holiday, apparently, is "that while Valentine's Day is practiced in largely similar ways throughout the world, with the giving of gifts of chocolate to those whose respect, admiration, or love we desire, in some countries it is tradition that only women give gifts on February 14th, in part due to the existence of White Day. White Day, subsequently, is when women are the recipients, with the expectation being that the gift bestowed upon the woman is thrice the value of that she gave to the man."**

 **I apologize now for this fic. This is based on an idea I had years ago, and it popped into my head earlier. I've also been traveling and working A LOT this week, and I literally (not figuratively) have not slept since Monday. I really feel like I'm suffering now.**

 **This story is set during the time between 'Nemesis' and 'Small Victories'.**

* * *

Four days. It had been four days since the Asgard had transported Thor away and left them to fend for themselves on P4X-234. Not that Jack minded; not really, considering it gave him and his fellow teammates the chance to unwind for a few days without the threat of the Goa'uld – or Replicators – hanging over their heads.

So, yes, the peace and quiet was a welcome addition to their stay on the planet, but the lack of food, supplies or clean clothes wasn't as favorable. However, when they realized the Asgard weren't going to beam them off '234 anytime soon, the team quickly set up camp and made themselves at home until the SGC could get the second gate up and running.

As Jack glanced around their small camp, he caught sight of Teal'c in the midst of Kelno'reem while Carter had just thrown some wood onto the campfire. Their dinner for the evening had been a fish he'd managed to catch from one of the nearby lakes, a feat he was incredibly proud of – even if Teal'c and Sam didn't share his enthusiasm.

But after a few days without any candy or chocolate or pie, Jack really needed some sugar. With a sigh, he looked around again and his gaze fell onto his leather jacket which lay discarded on the overturned tree trunk adjacent to the one Carter was now using as a seat.

He grabbed his jacket and felt around in the pockets. "Ah ha!"

He caught Sam's bemused look and beckoned for her to join him.

"Is everything OK, sir?" She asked as she sat down to his right.

"Better than OK," he grinned as he pulled his hand from the pocket. "I've got dessert."

"Dessert? Where would you –" Sam stopped abruptly as she looked at the various coloured blocks that now rested in the palm of his hand. "What are those?"

"Sustenance," he offered with a shrug.

"From... where?"

"It's whom, actually," he corrected as he placed his jacket behind him. "And the answer is Thor."

"Oh."

He arranged the blocks before he glanced up to see Teal'c walking towards them. With a smile, he picked up the yellow one.

"Teal'c, my man," he shouted. "Heads up!"

When Teal'c caught it with ease, Jack smirked. "With compliments of Thor."

Out of the corner of his eye, Jack watched Sam as she watched their teammate eat the Asgard delicacy and saw the curiosity spark in her eyes.

"What does it taste like?"

"I do not know of a Tau'ri-based food that tastes like this."

"I liked the red, personally," Jack shrugged when Sam looked at him warily.

"I think I'll pass, sir."

"I'm disappointed in you, Carter."

"You'll live," she quipped, as she moved from the trunk onto the ground and let her back rest against the tree.

He was slightly surprised – not to mention impressed – by Sam's retort, but he decided not to say anything. Instead, he let his gaze fall to the remaining blocks.

"How about the blue one?"

"No, thank you, sir."

He heard the smirk in her voice and leaned forward, the backs of his fingers tapping against her shoulder.

"Come on, Carter! You eat that blue Jell-O crap all the time. How different could this really be?"

Slowly, Sam turned her head and quirked a brow at him, giving him all the answer he needed.

"Fine," he huffed.

Silence fell on the camp but just seconds later, Jack started drumming an unintelligible tune on his right thigh with his fingers.

"Just one."

Sam sighed heavily.

"I could make it an order, you know."

"You wouldn't dare. Sir."

He grinned. "Wanna take that risk?"

His grin widened when Sam closed her eyes in defeat. "Fine," she muttered quietly.

She reached out and lifted one of the blocks from his hand with more force than Jack thought was strictly necessary. Unfortunately, his attention was so focused on the fact that he'd managed to convince Sam to try the Asgardian food that he didn't realize which one she had chosen until it was too late.

His amusement quickly disappeared, his eyes widened in alarm as Sam lifted the white block to her mouth.

" _Crap!_ Carter, wait! Don't eat the white one!"


	75. Et Tu, Brute?

**Author's Note: Written for 'Brutus Day' (15 March), a day "reminding us that even in this modern age, betrayal, subterfuge, and (metaphorical) backstabbing is still alive and well". (Their definition, not mine).**

 **Episode tag for season 8 'Gemini', with a slight reference to season 6 'Unnatural Selection'.**

* * *

 _I hope you don't make me regret your decision._

The words haunted him the moment they'd left Samantha Carter's lips almost two years previously.

They had been on the X-303, waiting to rendezvous with the Asgard, when she'd looked him straight in the eye, uttered those words, and then turned and left him alone on the bridge.

He knew what he'd asked her to do at the time, knew what it had cost her, but he had given her an order. That was exactly what it was – _an order._ And while he didn't particularly like having to make that call, he'd had no choice. It was part of the job and, sometimes, it came at a cost.

Today, Jack realized, the time to start paying the price had finally arrived.

However, as he looked around and saw the broken mirror pieces strewn across Carter's vanity basin and bathroom floor, he wasn't sure if he was prepared for the ultimatum.

He held his breath as he caught sight of Sam sitting in the far corner with her back against the wall, her knees pulled tight to her chest and her head rested on her knees. As he stepped into the room, he tried carefully not to startle her, but the shards shattered even further under his boots. At the sound, Sam's head shot up and as she scrambled to her feet, she used one hand to wipe away the tears that had stained her face.

"What are you doing here, sir?"

"Take it easy, Carter," he murmured as he held his hands out by his sides. "When you didn't answer the door, I let myself in."

He took another step closer and reached out to see why his former teammate had one hand cradled to her chest, but when Sam tried to move away, he frowned in concern.

"Don't touch me. _Please._ "

"Carter –"

"I just want to be left alone, sir."

He pursed his lips as he watched her closely. "Talk to me, Sam."

Slowly, she met his gaze, her eyes glistening with more tears, and Jack tried not to flinch as her upset soon gave way to anger.

"Talk to you?" she repeated incredulously. "Do you have any idea –" She stopped abruptly and shook her head. "I think you should leave, General."

"With all due respect, Carter, I'm not going anywhere. You've destroyed half of your house and –"

"And with all due respect, _sir_ , I don't want to hear it."

"Yeah, well, you're going to have to," he retaliated as he folded his arms across his chest.

"Is that an order?"

"If it has to be, yeah."

He waited as Sam closed her eyes and sighed, and he knew what was coming next.

"What do you want me to say, sir? That I screwed up? I _know_ – and if it's the last thing I do, I swear, I _will_ fix it, but –"

"It's _not_ your fault, Sam."

"Yes, it is," she said as she moved towards him. "It's all my fault."

"How?"

"Because I let my feelings cloud my judgment," she hissed.

The silence that followed her outburst was deafening, broken only when Sam took a deep breath.

"A couple of years ago, I said I didn't want to regret a decision that you'd made," she said quietly.

Jack nodded as he recalled that particular conversation – again – and as they held each other's gaze, Sam whispered, "Do you still think it was worth the risk?"

* * *

 **The idea behind this fic is that while Jack didn't necessarily betray Sam, he ordered her to betray Fifth back in 'Unnatural Selection'. So, in my mind, Fifth's anger at Sam whenever the time dilation field ends, is partly Jack's fault. Aside from a terse exchange of words between Jonas, Sam and Jack on the X-303, the issue isn't dealt with again - then, when RepliCarter appears in 'Gemini' and everything goes to hell, the final scene in the episode always gets to me. Because it _is_ Sam's fault that the events turned out the way they did. But, to me, Jack also has to shoulder some of the responsibility. I just thought there was so much more potential for the two of them to really thrash out an argument about the whole situation, but we never got to see that play out on screen... **

***and breathes... then steps down from soapbox and backs away slowly***


	76. Lip Service

**Author's Note: Written for 'Lips Appreciation Day' (16 March). Reference to 'The Broca Divide'.**

* * *

Jack remembered reading an article in one of Sara's crappy gossip magazines a few years ago and how it claimed that the lips had more nerve endings than any other part of the human body.

At the time, like the rest of the magazine, Jack dismissed it as garbage, but as he now pressed the pads of his fingers against lips, he had to swallow hard.

It had been twenty minutes since _the_ kiss and his lips still tingled. Little bundles of electricity, sparked to life when Sam's lips touched his.

And where her lips touched his skin.

Where she started at the corner of his mouth and then tantalizingly worked her way along his jawline to his chin before she finished at the hollow of his neck.

He closed his eyes as he remembered the feel of her against him. The way he found himself lying on his back with his hands pinned above his head while Carter straddled his hips.

Instinctively, he licked his lips and all he could taste was _her_ and he could feel his body harden with desire.

He groaned audibly as his thoughts quickly started to derail. He needed something to refocus his mind on the job, so he turned from the infirmary and decided to head down to the control room.

As he waited for the elevator to arrive, he rubbed a hand over the back of his neck where he thought Carter had scratched him earlier and he couldn't help the smug grin that shaped his lips.

She had chosen _him_.

And while he doubted that the captain would remember her little indiscretion, Jack was adamant that he wouldn't forget.


	77. Submerge Yourself

**Author's Note: Written for 'Submarine Day' (17 March). Teeny tiny episode addition for Continuum.**

* * *

"Nobody comes in or out until we can surface and deal with these freaks."

Sam tried not to let her hurt show at the anger and contempt she heard in Jack's voice. She flashed back to the first meeting she'd had with her own then-colonel and how he had made his distaste for scientists known. But he wasn't necessarily rude and she knew that he never would have referred to her as a _freak_.

But this man? He wasn't _her_ Jack.

"Sir!"

She abruptly turned on her heel and managed just one step out of the ward room before the officer on guard moved to stand between her and this timeline's Colonel O'Neill.

"Can we talk – privately?"

She looked between the two men before her attention stayed with Jack and she watched his eyes darken and his expression harden. Suddenly, he gestured for her to follow him as he walked down the corridor and took a left into one of the quieter alcoves.

"You have two minutes."

"OK, I know our story sounds far-fetched, but –" she continued, ignoring his snort of disbelief. "We're telling you the truth."

"Sure, you are."

"Sir –" She closed her eyes and took a deep breath, but her mind was flooded with images and memories and the catastrophic fallout from the extraction ceremony.

"You have to believe us."

"I don't _have_ to do anything."

Her gaze snapped up to meet his and she had to force herself not to flinch under his glare, so she tried to change the conversation.

"You said you knew me?"

"Our paths crossed a couple of times," he shrugged. "Official functions, mostly. I told you that brain of yours would get you into trouble one day," he smirked, although the action was completely void of humor. "Seems I was right."

"I'm not the same Carter."

"No, you're not," he replied, giving her a slow onceover. "But something tells me that wherever you're from, you're still an egghead – and probably a national treasure."

Her breath caught as she remembered the one and only other time she'd been called a national treasure and she had to quickly blink back tears.

"You know me as well."

It was a statement, rather than a question, but Sam nodded regardless, picking up on the hint of curiosity in his voice, but she wasn't sure what she should – or even wanted – to tell him.

"What Daniel said – about us travelling to different planets... It's not a lie. We were a team. We were – we were friends," she finished quietly.

Sam let her gaze fall away and her attention unwittingly fell to the colonel's left hand – where no wedding ring was present. She didn't notice Jack follow her gaze, only meeting his eye again when he said, "What?"

"I, ah," she gestured towards him, hoping her voice remained neutral. "I guess you and Sara –"

His gaze flicked down to his left hand but Sam was surprised to see his glowering expression.

"That's none of your damn business."

She immediately straightened and nodded. "No. No, you're right. I'm sorry, I –" She stopped and took another deep breath. Moments later, she quietly added, "I'm really glad Charlie's safe."

"Don't talk about my son, either," he warned.

Sam bit back a sigh as she held Jack's gaze. She didn't know what this Jack O'Neill had been through but whatever it was, it had made him cold and distant. There was a hard edge to him and an impenetrable layer that Sam knew, in her gut, she wasn't going to be able to break through.

She slowly felt her hope slip through her fingers. This colonel was not on their side and he would not help them. He wasn't _Jack_. He wasn't the same man she had fought alongside for seven years and known for the best part of a decade. It wasn't _him_. The one who held her gaze at the extraction ceremony as he took his final breaths and tried to tell her everything he'd never got a chance to say. The man standing in front of her was not her husband.

With that realization, Sam swallowed her sadness and refused to give this stranger any more of her time. She pulled her shoulders back and with fierce determination, promised herself that she would figure out a way to fix the timeline and return home to save her own Jack O'Neill. **  
**


	78. Awkward Position

**Author's Note: Written for 'Awkward Moments Day' (18 March).**

* * *

"Well, this is –"

"Cosy."

"– _Awkward_. I was going to say awkward."

"That too."

Sam huffed out a laugh at the colonel's answer, right before she heard the sound of metal hitting stone.

"Crap."

"Carter?"

"I, ah, dropped my flashlight."

"Crap," he muttered. "So, we're oh-for-two on that plan?"

"Yes, sir," she nodded, even though he couldn't see the movement.

"What's next?"

"Umm..."

"There must be another way outta here."

"I doubt it, sir. But even if there is – we can't see anything."

"Maybe if we... feel our way around?"

The silence that met his question was deafening.

"You know what, Carter? Never mind," he quickly amended.

Neither spoke for a few moments as they tried to figure out how to escape their current predicament.

"I have an idea, sir."

"I'm all ears."

"OK," she said as she took a deep breath. "If I just move to the left, and – oh –"

"Watch your step –" the colonel interrupted gently as Sam stumbled and bumped against his side.

"Thank you, sir," she said as she straightened. "So, if you now try moving to the right –"

 _"Oomph!"_

"The _other_ right, sir."

"Carter, are you sure you know what you're doing?"

She hesitated, then, "No."

" _No?_ Oh, for cryin' out loud. We're in a dungeon, Carter. A dark, cold and somewhat questionable smelling dungeon, and –"

"Why don't you tell me something I don't know? _Sir,_ " she snapped.

"Getting a little testy, are we?"

"Do you have any better ideas?" Sam asked instead.

 _"Excuse me?"_

"Technically, it's your fault we're here."

"Major?"

"You insulted this planet's emperor!"

"Well, I'm sorry! How was I to know that flipping the bird was a universal language?"

"Oh, my – _ow!_ "

"Sorry, Carter."

"Uh, sir?"

"...It's my sidearm, I swear."


	79. Pythagorean Problems

**Author's Note: Written for 'Chocolate Caramel Day' (19 March). AU. I apologize for everything. This month's selection of holidays are _not_ my friends.**

* * *

Samantha closed her locker door and shouldered her duffle. As she turned to leave, she came face-to-face with Jack and she jumped.

"Carter," he smirked.

"O'Neill."

"Whatcha doin'?"

Slowly, Sam let her gaze travel from Jack's head down to his feet and back again. He had one shoulder rested against the lockers, a rucksack thrown haphazardly over the other shoulder and his hands in the pockets of his jeans, while his legs were crossed at the ankles. He looked like he was there for the long-haul, which Sam deduced was highly likely, if it meant he didn't have to be where he was supposed to be.

When he raised a brow at her in silent question, she adjusted the strap of her bag and sighed. "I'm heading to class," she offered. "You know, the thing we come to school for?"

When he failed to move, she added, "You playing hooky again?"

"Nah," he shrugged. "Not today."

"I should go," she smiled, moving to side-step him when he suddenly straightened and blocked her path.

"Actually, Carter… there's something I wanted to ask you."

"The answer's no."

Sam caught the tiny frown that appeared on Jack's face before he shook his head. "But you don't even know what I'm going to ask?"

"Really?" She threw him a look of disbelief. "So, you weren't going to ask – again – if you could copy my homework?"

"No, actually, I wasn't."

Sam started to roll her eyes, only to see a hint of apprehension appear on his face. "Oh. Well, what did you want to ask?"

"Ah," Jack pulled a hand from his pocket and ran it across the back of his neck. "I, ah, I was wondering if you – ah – wouldyoubemystudybuddy?"

Sam's eyes widened slightly. "What was that?"

"Would you be my study buddy?" He repeated with a wince.

"I –"

The sound of laughter reached her ears and she glanced across the hallway to see Charles Kawalsky and Louis Ferretti watching them, their amusement evident, while Daniel Jackson stood a few steps away, a mixture of guilt and sympathy played across his features, and Sam's confusion was quickly replaced with anger. Anger that she seemed to be the subject of another joke by the school jocks.

"Did one of them put you up to this?"

"Huh?"

Sam gestured towards his friends and he followed her gaze. "Which one?"

"I don't –"

"This is obviously some kind of joke, so which one of them is responsible?"

"It's not a joke."

When Sam crossed her arms over her chest, Jack sighed. "I swear, Carter. Just – just ignore them. They –"

"I'm going to be late for class," she interrupted as she started to walk away, only for him to reach out and gently wrap a hand around her wrist. When Sam froze, he closed his eyes. "Can you hear me out for two minutes?"

"You have one."

"OK, look. I've just had a little chat with Hammond, and –"

"Summoned to the Principal's office again, were we?"

At Jack's unamused look, Sam gave him a sheepish smile. "Sorry. Carry on."

"I want to join the Air Force," he admitted quietly as he took a step closer. "But, Hammond says my math and physics grades need to improve if I want that to happen, so…" He hesitated for a beat, and rubbed the back of his neck again. "I thought since you were the resident genius around here, you might be able to help?"

"You want my help?"

"Yeah," he shrugged. "Charlie and Louis. They're pissing themselves because I'm about to fail, Carter, not because this is a wind-up."

"Oh."

Sam took a minute to study the teenager standing in front of her. Despite them being in the same year, she'd only had a few interactions with him over the handful of classes they shared. A lot of the time he liked to mess around and play the fool, but underneath the façade, she always had an inkling that Jack was a lot smarter than he liked to admit. She did know that he found math and science difficult however – often vocalizing his disdain for scientists on a weekly basis. On a personal level, Jack had never been rude to her, but she wouldn't necessarily say he was someone that she tended to spend time with outside of high school. Even if he was kind of cute.

"Will you think about it?"

The sound of his question pulled Sam from her thoughts just as the bell rang to signal the start of afternoon classes.

"What's in it for me?"

Jack frowned. "Huh?"

"Say I agree to be your 'study buddy'," she said, throwing air quotes around the term. "What do I get from it?"

"Aside from spending a couple of hours in my enthralling company?"

She pursed her lips in an effort to stop a smile from escaping.

"I could… take you to the movies?"

"Are you just using this as an excuse to hit on me?"

"No. Not exactly. I really do need help," he said, ignoring her snicker. "Uh, you like flowers?"

When she scrunched her nose, he shook his head. "OK, so no flowers. What about chocolate?"

"What kind?"

"Whatever," he shrugged. "You name it, it's yours."

"Hmm." She tilted her head to the side as she weighed up the deal.

She knew already that she would help him study, but she just wanted to see him squirm for a while longer when she remembered a very important detail.

"You own a motorcycle?"

"Yeah," he answered warily and Sam grinned triumphantly.

"OK," she finally answered. "A box of chocolate caramels every week until our finals – plus a go on the motorcycle."

"Who rides up front?"

"We'll arm wrestle for that one," she quipped as she shifted her bag to her other shoulder, completely missing the surprised, and slightly impressed, look on Jack's face.

When she met his eye again, he shook his head, but there was a hint of a smile on his lips. "Let me think about it," he murmured as he brushed by her and Sam let her gaze follow him until he disappeared into one of the classrooms.

* * *

The following morning, Sam opened her locker to find a small red box inside. Carefully unraveling the matching ribbon, she opened the box and smiled when she saw a selection of chocolate caramels inside, along with a slip of paper. She unfolded it and her smile widened as she read the words, _'See ya later, Study Buddy!'_


	80. Next-Door Neighbors

**Author's Note: Written for 'Won't You Be My Neighbor Day' (20 March). Set early season 7.**

* * *

He lands on the floor with a grunt, but he refuses to cry out and give his captors – or his team – any indication as to how much pain he's actually in.

He waits until he hears the metal bars slam closed and the footsteps disappear before he slowly rolls himself into a sitting position. He curses softly while his teammates simultaneously ask if he's alright.

"I'm fine," he says, brushing off their concern, even though all four of them know he's lying.

The Jaffa they encountered are in service to Ba'al and while the snakehead has yet to make an appearance himself, it appears he's happy to give his minions a head-start on the interrogations.

Jack closes his eyes and wonders if he'll make it over to the bench on the far side of his cell. Usually, Teal'c, or Carter, or even Daniel, would offer a helping hand but the Jaffa seemingly had the foresight to keep them separated, each of them having their own tiny recess. Yet all four of the cells join together to make one larger cube, so even though they aren't sharing the same space, they still see everything.

"Any luck finding a way out of here?"

"No, sir."

"We'll keep looking Jack," Daniel adds.

He nods absently.

"You should rest, O'Neill."

He spares a look at Teal'c, who dips his head and silently confirms he'll keep watch in the meantime.

"Yeah," he finally mutters, before he turns and gingerly moves towards the bench.

Jack is the only one to have been selected for "questioning" so far, and whilst he isn't keen to repeat the experience, he doesn't want any of his team to undergo the ordeal either.

As he sits down and swings his legs onto the bench, he knows his left knee has been blown out again, and he reckons that the blood he coughed up moments earlier in the corridor is a result of a broken rib or two, as opposed to a split lip. The chest pain and difficulty he's having breathing all-but-confirm his suspicions.

He doesn't realize his eyes have slipped closed until he feels someone moving nearby. He jumps and curses softly at the pain the movement causes.

"Easy, sir," he hears Sam whisper moments before she appears to his left, albeit on the other side of the bars.

She slides onto her own bench and faces him as she mirrors his position and he feels himself relax slightly, knowing that she's instinctively watching his back for any threats.

Her eyes roam over his face and body, looking for the injuries he's hiding from her, and when he catches sight of her frown, he mumbles, "How bad?"

"Split brow, busted lip and a black eye to round out the look," she says softly.

"Hmm."

"What else?"

He turns his head slightly to look at her.

"What did they do to you, sir?"

"I've faced worse than this, Carter. It's fine."

"Sir –"

 _"Sam,"_ he replies firmly, but quietly. "Let's just find a way out of here, OK?"

He waits as she gives him another onceover. "Knee?"

"Yeah," he sighs, knowing she isn't going to give up until she gets an answer. "And possibly the ribs."

"Broken?"

"Yeah."

He hears her curse, but before he can tell her not to worry, he feels something warm cover his hand. He looks down to see Sam has snaked her left hand in between two of the bars. The touch brings him comfort he didn't realize he needed and without thinking, he twists his fingers to entwine hers with his and gives them a light squeeze.

She rests her head against one of the metal bars and holds his gaze. "Get some rest," she whispers. "We'll be home soon."

* * *

 **Sam and Jack can be neighbors in a prison cell, right?**


	81. Memory Lapse

**Author's Note:** **Written for 'Memory Day' (21 March).**

 **Kahuna - Thank you for your comments – they are really appreciated!**

 **Yeahsureyoubetcha – Oh, my goodness! THANK YOU! I can't believe you've worked your way through this series all week! I'm really glad you're enjoying it so far! There are a few of these vignettes I'd like to continue further – including the previous chapter (it's just finding the time), but if there's any others in particular you'd like to see continued just let me know. A few readers over on AO3 have already left their suggestions! :)**

* * *

"Umm… pass."

"Colonel! You –"

" _What_ , Doc? You think I like not having any answers for you?"

"No, of course not, sir. It's actually really worrying, but –"

"The memories just aren't there, Janet."

"Don't worry," Daniel interjected, throwing his friend what he hoped was a reassuring smile. "We'll figure this out, Sam."

"Daniel's right. OK," the doctor sighed as she slid her hands into the pockets of her lab coat. "So, everything seemed normal on the planet?"

"Yes."

"And the two of you didn't do anything different to Daniel or Teal'c?"

"No."

"No food or drink, or –"

" _No_ , Doc."

"I don't think so," Sam added.

"I believe they did, Doctor Frasier."

"Excuse me, Teal'c?"

"Both Colonel O'Neill and Major Carter sampled the local beverage on P5V-567 as part of their union."

 _"What?!"_

"Local beverage?"

 _"Union?!"_

"Oh! Oh… _no._ "

"Sam?"

"Ah, _crap._ "

"Colonel?"

"Yeah," he sighed heavily. "It's all coming back to me now, Doc. Damn."


	82. Hot Springs And Bikini Strings

**Author's Note: Written for 'Goof Off Day' (22 March), "a chance to step back from the rigours and pressures of everyday life, Goof Off Day encourages people to take some time to be silly, waste an hour or two, and do something a bit different."**

 **Basically, this fic is a result of a friend and I discussing the potentially ridiculous things SG-1 could get up to, all in the spirit of "team bonding". Set during season 4, purely for the brief reference to 'Window of Opportunity'.**

* * *

"I think it's a good idea, Jack."

"With all due respect, sir –"

"Aren't you the one who's been pushing for SG-1 to have some downtime?"

"Well, yes, sir," he hesitates. "But I don't think –"

"Then it's settled," Hammond smiles. "You have three days of well-deserved leave, commencing tomorrow."

"General, I –"

"I can always make it an order, son."

He closes his eyes in resignation. "I'll see you next week, sir," he sighs as he leaves Hammond's office in search of his team.

He finds them a little while later in Sam's lab, crowded around a very cluttered bench, but his hopes of finding support to overrule the General's order soon evaporates, thanks to their enthusiasm for a team break. He's still trying to think of a way out of the trip when he suddenly hears Daniel's latest suggestion and shakes his head vehemently.

"No! Absolutely not."

"Come on, Jack. It's –"

"Forget it. If that's what you're planning, I am _not_ going."

"General Hammond said –"

"Hammond said we use the time to show Teal'c more of Earth's customs, yada yada," Jack interrupts with a wave of his hand. "Yeah, that's great. I'm _all_ for culture – but this? I don't think so."

"Sir, I –"

"Don't you start, Carter."

"Sorry, sir."

"Jack!"

"Daniel?"

"What is so wrong with –"

" _Everything!_ OK, so maybe not everything," he admits at the archaeologist's frown. "But it's just not for me."

"This isn't about you."

"No," he grouses. "It's about Teal'c."

There's a beat of silence that passes and Jack realizes he is seconds away from losing this argument once and for all, when Daniel speaks up again.

"Have you even visited –"

"Nope."

"Then how do you know –"

"I just do."

"We have three days of downtime, starting tomorrow," he says with mild frustration as he stares at Jack. "What do you suggest we do then?"

"Go back to my place, drink beer and watch TV," he shrugs, as if it's the most obvious choice in the world.

"OK," Daniel replies slowly. "And that enhances Teal'c's knowledge of Earth... how?"

"We'd watch The Simpsons. _The Simpsons_ ," he emphasizes. "It'll teach him everything he needs to know."

"Shouldn't we ask Teal'c if that's what he actually wants to do?"

Jack turns to glare at Sam's suggestion, but she only shrugs in response. "We are doing this for him, sir."

He knows what Carter says makes sense, but he can't help the sigh that escapes at her oh-so-gentle reminder.

"Fine," he eventually mutters as he swipes a pen from the bench. "Knock yourself out."

As he starts to take the pen apart, he tunes out most of his team's conversation and tries not to huff over the fact that they didn't even stop to seriously consider his suggestion as to how to spend their long weekend. After all, it's not like he and Teal'c have just spent the last three – if not more – months reliving the same ten hours over and over _and over_ again. If anybody deserved a couple of days off, it was them. The problem was that they had vastly different ideas as to how to spend said time off.

"Well, I guess that's settled then."

He glances up at the sound of Daniel's voice to find his three teammates looking at him expectantly. "Huh?"

"Teal'c's made his case, sir," Sam adds, a slight smile twisting her lips. "It looks like we're going."

"Oh, for crying out loud! Can't I pull rank on this one?"

"I don't think the General would appreciate that, sir. Besides," Sam pauses, before a light blush appears on her face. "This could be fun."

"We really need to discuss your definition of _fun_ , Carter."

"Save it for the drive," Daniel quickly interjects as he slides off one of the chairs. "So, what do you say, Jack?"

Meeting his friend's gaze, Jack can see the excitement in his eyes. He lets his attention drift to Teal'c who, despite remaining quiet for most of the discussion, looks far too smug with himself. Finally, he risks a glance at Carter who is looking back at him with wide eyes and a small, hopeful smile. He closes his eyes and lets his chin drop to his chest.

"Pack your bags, kids," he sighs. "We're going on a little vacation."

He catches sight of Daniel as he literally bounces out of Sam's lab, closely followed by Teal'c. Slowly, he looks at his major.

"I'm surprised you agreed to this, Carter."

"I'm looking forward to some sunshine. Plus," she offers as her gaze briefly falls on a pile of papers on the bench. "It'll be nice not to have to wear BDUs for a few days."

Suddenly, Jack straightens at the way Sam glances up at him from beneath her lashes and he wonders if she's planning to pack that little black bikini of hers – a nugget of information he's privy to thanks to Urgo's influence the previous year.

He feels himself smirking and as he pushes himself away from the bench, he thinks that maybe this trip won't be that bad after all.

* * *

 **I'll let you make up your own mind as to what they do - or where they go - for their team vacay! ;)**


	83. Puppy Love

**Author's Note: Written for 'Puppy Day' (23 March). Set post-series.**

* * *

Sam glanced out of the front room window for the fourth time in fifteen minutes and sighed.

Silently, she scolded herself and tried to remain calm, but just moments later she found herself pacing up and down the hallway. Her gaze fell to the phone sitting on the small table and before she could talk herself out of it, she punched in the number. She was just about to hit the dial button when the sound of an engine could be heard. Slamming the phone down, she moved to the front door and let out a breath when she came face-to-face with Jack who sported an impossibly wide grin.

"What's wrong? Has something happened? Is there an emergency at the base?"

"Huh?"

"You rang and told me not to leave the house. What's going on?"

"Oh! _Oh._ "

Sam watched as confusion was replaced with clarity when Jack realized she had mistaken his request as an order, and she caught the slightest twitch of his lips, right before he shifted his stance, and a guilty expression settled on his face.

"What have you done?"

"Nothing," he said as he held up a hand. "Well, everything's fine at least, so you don't need to worry."

"Jack?"

He went to answer, only to change his mind at the last second.

"Wait here," he said, before he turned on his heel and headed back to his truck, leaving Sam staring after him in bemusement.

She could see him moving around at the back of the truck and whilst she didn't have a clear view, she was pretty sure he was trying to lift something from the back seat. She was just about to ask if he needed any help when she heard a noise.

"What on earth?" She murmured as she stepped onto the porch – and promptly heard the same sound again.

Yes, that definitely sounded like –

Sam briefly closed her eyes and when she heard the sound for a third time, she looked up just in time to see a golden Labrador puppy scramble down the driveway and up the front steps to the house, coming to an abrupt stop at her feet. She observed the puppy as it stared up at her.

"Surprise," Jack said a little too brightly as he reached them. He went to lift the puppy, but hesitated when Sam crouched down and picked it up to stop it clawing at the bottom of her jeans.

"He or she?"

"Uh, she," Jack answered carefully.

"Hmm. She's cute," Sam eventually replied with a slight smile as she held the pup in front of her face. "Does she have a name?"

"No. Not yet," Jack said, moving closer.

"I thought you were joking when you mentioned it this morning."

"You should know by now, Carter," he said with a slight grin. "I'm always serious when it comes to a holiday."

Resisting the urge to roll her eyes at her husband, Sam scratched the puppy behind the ear while Jack closed the gap between them and ran the back of his index finger over the dog's head.

He gently nudged Sam's shoulder with his and grinned when she met his gaze. "Happy puppy day, Sam."


	84. Duty Calls

**Author's Note: Written for 'Chocolate Covered Raisins Day' (24 March). Missing scene (kind of) for 'In The Line Of Duty'. Sorry this is late.**

* * *

 _When you speak to her, do not see your friend._

He remembers asking Teal'c how he is supposed to do that because even though he's had to interrogate people in the past, this is _Sam_.

He trusts his team – that much he knew almost immediately – but he still likes to play his cards close to his chest, not give too much away. With Teal'c, they understand each other because they are both fighters, soldiers, warriors; with Daniel, they're friends because the archaeologist is one of the few who saw him at his worst and yet was the only one who didn't walk away. But with Sam, he still isn't quite sure of the role she plays in his life.

She's a teammate and a friend, obviously, but lately he's been feeling... _different._ There's a warmth that settles within him whenever he sees her or knows she's nearby. There's a buzz in the way he's able to make her smile with one of his bad jokes and he isn't entirely sure, but he thinks that could be the main reason why he tells them in the first place.

He doesn't know what to make of the discovery. It's been a while since he's felt anything like desire for a woman but this is something he isn't sure he even felt with Sara. The admission makes him feel guilty, because he did love Sara, but with Carter – well, he can't quite put his finger on it.

 _I am too valuable._

 _Which is exactly why we'll never let you go._ _  
_  
He wasn't lying. The only way a Goa'uld would walk free from the base would be over his dead body. But, in that moment, he was also talking to his captain. She was too valuable to the SGC, to the team, to _him_. Even if this Goa'uld was able to do what he claimed, Jack didn't trust him with _Sam_. He would have to go through the gate himself as well, something Hammond would never agree to, in order to have her back and make sure she did return home safely and as the Sam they all know and lo–

He shakes his head to quickly rid himself of those kind of thoughts and tries to detach himself from the situation again. He is getting too close. The boundaries between prisoner and interrogator becoming blurred.

 _Please, Jack! No, Jack! Please, don't leave me, please! Give me a chance! Don't leave me like this! Please!_ _  
_  
He rubs at his eyes with the palm of his hands and resists the urge to hit something.

He'd left her. He'd just turned around and left her.

Even though his one and only rule is never to leave a man behind.

He knew he could argue that Sam was no longer one of his own, but he also knew that would be lying. She was still in there somewhere – she'd been able to call out to him. _For him._

She called him _Jack_. It was the first time his name had passed her lips and just like it did then, it still makes him pause now. That one word stirs the emotions that he's trying to hide away and pretend do _not_ exist.

He sighs loudly into the silence of the empty locker room when he catches a shadow of movement out of the corner of his eye. Turning his head slightly, he sees Cassie standing in the doorway. His gaze shifts and he sees Janet standing behind her, her hands resting firmly on the little girl's shoulders. He nods at her silent question before she quietly encourages her daughter into the room. Before he even gets to his feet, Cass has thrown her arms around him and he looks up just in time to see Janet disappear around the corner.

"Is Sam – is she still a Goa'uld?"

He hears the waver in her voice and he closes his eyes. "We're still finding a way to help her, Cass," he offers.

"I miss her."

"Me too," he whispers.

They sit in silence for a few minutes before Cassandra shuffles around on the bench and leans closer against Jack's side and he throws an arm over her shoulder. He glances down and sees a packet of chocolate-covered raisins in her hand and smiles softly as she starts to tuck into them. He doesn't think a day has gone by – much to Janet's chagrin – where she hasn't eaten the sweets treats. Apparently, _Toronto_ never had chocolate-covered raisins either.

When Cassie reaches the packet over to him, his smile widens and he holds out a hand.

He's halfway to throwing the food into his mouth when Cass breaks the silence.

"Sam loves you too."

He glances down sharply at the little girl but she's just staring at the raisins in her hand.

"Cass," he says carefully.

"She told me."

Jack finds himself holding his breath at the revelation because he isn't quite sure what it means, nor how to address the issue, or to make sure that Cassie knows she can't go around saying things like that, even if it is an innocent comment.

"Carter – uh, _Sam_ – she – she told you – that she..."

He trails off, unable to repeat the word, and Cassie nods against his side.

"She said she loves all of you, because you're her family. Just like I'm family."

He releases a breath he doesn't realize he's been holding and gives her a gentle squeeze, similar to the way he did back at the military hospital, when he'd promised her that Sam would never, ever hurt her – because she loved her.

He hadn't known Carter was a Goa'uld at the time, or that the snake had threatened Cass, but his belief in his statement remained.

He looks down at the little girl tucked tightly against him and he knows how much Sam loves her. She loves her like a daughter, just like he does, like all of SG-1 do. His team have only been together in this unique situation for around fourteen months now but he realizes that in that time, they've made relationships and bonds in a way he hasn't with any other team before. They work together and have each other's back; they are friends too, but there's also something... _more_. He straightens from his spot on the bench and turns to look at his companion.

"Yeah, you're right, Cass," he whispers. "We are a family."

With a newfound resolve, he squeezes shoulder one more time.

"C'mon," he says. "Let's get you back to your mom."

"What about you?"

He looks down at her wide, sad eyes and he drops a kiss into her hair. "I'm gonna go find a way to save Sam," he promises.


	85. Breakfast Is Served

**Author's Note: Written for 'Waffle Day' (25 March). Missing scene for 'Threads'.**

* * *

Still half-asleep, Sam ran an arm along the rumpled bedsheets. The other side of the bed was long cold, and as the room slowly came into focus, she idly thought it was tidier now than it was the night before. Her clothes, for a start, had been folded neatly and set on the chair in the corner of the room, and she distinctly remembered divesting of her blouse before she'd even entered the bedroom.

But now she was alone and starting to feel slightly embarrassed by the fact that she was naked in General O'Neill's bed. She's grateful that he thought to give her a little space this morning, but she can't help the slight pull of disappointment that he wasn't there when she woke up.

Feeling foolish, she pushed the covers back and retrieved her clothes.

Just days earlier, the general had sat with her during her father's final moments and for the first time in a long time, she'd felt grounded. She felt content, and then he'd put an arm around her shoulders and promised her _always_. But it wasn't until she was home alone, having broken off her engagement to Pete, that she realized with surprising clarity, that she needed to find out where she stood with the other man left in her life once and for all.

And now a part of her still can't believe that she's here; that she actually turned up on his doorstep in the middle of the night, greeted him with the words, "We need to talk", and marched into his house, frantically confessing everything she'd kept bottled up inside for so long.

She should have felt awkward or ashamed, but she didn't. Instead, she felt relief. Like the weight of the world had been lifted from her shoulders because she was no longer living a lie. Even if the general had looked her in the eye last night and said he'd moved on, she felt she would still be able to handle that bombshell better than she did of her repressed emotions.

Only the general didn't reject her. He'd simply stepped up to her and whispered, "What do you want, Sam?"

"You," she'd responded.

And then he'd kissed her.

Sam closed her eyes as the memories of the previous night surfaced in her mind and she tried not to blush at the fact that they now knew each other fully and intimately.

A noise from down the hallway drew her attention and as she made her way towards the kitchen, the smell of waffles reached her nose and she hesitated.

When she was with Pete, he'd always made pancakes for breakfast – despite Sam once admitting that she didn't even like pancakes. But waffles are more her thing. Waffles with blueberry syrup on top.

She reached the kitchen just as Jack set the plate of waffles onto the table – right beside the jar of syrup.

He kept his gaze focused on her, but Sam caught the twitch in his jaw and the way he tapped his knuckles off the edge of the table.

"Morning," he finally said, a pensive look on his face.

And then it hit her. With startling clarity, she realized that it had always been her. The man standing before her had always let her be the one to decide what they are – what they become.

Even now. Even though she admitted that she loved him and even though they've slept together, he's giving her one final chance to make sure that this is really what she wants.

With a smile, she stepped into the kitchen and made her way around the table to stand before him.

"Morning," she whispered.

She waited as Jack searched her face and when he was seemingly happy with what he saw, he dropped a quick kiss to her lips before he pulled out a chair.

"Breakfast is served," he murmured as she sat down and he slid into the chair to her left.

As they both tucked into the food, Sam smiled. She could definitely get used to waking up and having breakfast with Jack O'Neill by her side every morning.

* * *

 **I actually don't think I can deal with another food-related holiday...**


	86. Cocooned

**Author's Note: The curse of the food-related holidays strikes again. Send help.**

 **Written for 'Nougat Day' (26 March), and an episode tag for season 2's 'Bane'. I know the first candy bar Ally gave Teal'c didn't necessarily feature nougat, but… I'm going to say the others did.**

* * *

Jack gently taps the bar of candy against his thigh as he makes his way towards the infirmary. He has no idea where Teal'c suddenly developed a craving for Baby Ruth bars, but he's just glad to have his friend back at the SGC and if the chocolate helps aid his recovery, he can have all the candy he wants. He rounds the corner and sees Carter sitting on one of the chairs in the corridor.

"Carter."

"Sir."

"Everything alright?"

"Yes, sir," she says as she gets to her feet. "Janet wanted to check Teal'c's vitals once more before Doctor Harlow left, so…"

He nods at her explanation, then glances around the corridor as an uncomfortable silence falls, and whilst he tries to think of something to say, he's saved from having to make conversation when the captain gestures towards his right hand.

"What have you been up to, sir?"

"Ah, Teal'c was getting hungry," he shrugs as he holds up the chocolate bar. "Apparently this one's his favorite."

Sam's lips twist into a smile before she sobers. "After everything he's been through, I think it's the least he deserves."

He finds himself agreeing as they fall silent again, but noticing the change in the captain's mood, he risks a glance in her direction. Even though she's staring at her boots, he's still able to see the flicker of guilt in her expression. He knows Sam feels responsible for how the situation with Teal'c, Maybourne and Doctor Harlow escalated; she had placed her trust in the doctor, told them that he was a good guy and could be trusted – and yet he'd gone behind their backs and sided with Maybourne.

Harlow's decision, however, wasn't Carter's fault and in the end, he'd realized his error in judgment and helped save Teal'c.

"I, ah, I heard you and the doc got into it pretty good."

Sam's gaze snaps to his and he holds out a hand in a placating gesture when he sees the fire in her eyes.

"I'd trusted him. I thought –" She stops abruptly and sighs. "I was just so angry."

"Look, I was angry with the guy too," he admits. "He made a mistake putting his trust in Maybourne, but he came through for us in the end, Carter. That's what matters."

"Yeah," she mumbles as she crosses her arms and studiously avoids his gaze.

He reaches out and gently taps the back of his fingers against her arm. "Hey."

When she meets his eye, he knows he hasn't helped to ease her guilt and he realizes this is one of the times when he needs to be a commanding officer. It's his job to talk to his team – to remind them of the rules if they step out of line, to praise them if they come up with another ingenious way to save Earth, to offer encouragement when they need it the most.

"Take a seat, captain," he says quietly as he points to the empty chairs. He waits until Sam sits before he drops down onto the one beside her and lets his shoulder brush against hers as he leans forward and mirrors her position. His elbows rest on his thighs as he idly turns the candy bar over in his hands. "Feel like telling me what's going on inside of that head of yours?"

There's no immediate response, but he keeps his eye on the candy, content to give Sam the time she needs to figure out whatever she wants – or doesn't want – to say. When she does finally speak, her words are so quiet, that Jack almost misses them.

"It's my fault Teal'c ran."

"How'd you come to that conclusion?"

"If I hadn't suggested Timothy be brought to the SGC –"

"So help me Carter, if you even _think_ about finishing that sentence."

"Colonel?"

He turns to look at her and sees her frowning at him with a mix of confusion and disapproval.

"If you hadn't recommended Harlow, Teal'c would be dead right now."

She flinches at his statement, but there's no way around the truth.

"We were so close to losing him, sir, and it would have been because of me."

"Carter," he sighs. "You can't blame yourself for this. You did nothing wrong."

He hears Sam sigh this time and he shifts in his seat to get comfortable. "What?"

"Do you think I'm too trusting, sir?"

He raises a brow in surprise at her question. "What makes you say that?"

"I always try to see the good in people," she explains quietly as she lets her gaze fall to her hands. "But maybe that's starting to affect my judgment."

"For crying out loud," he mutters under his breath. "How long have we known each other?"

"Two years, sir."

"Right. And in that time, I've yet to see you make a bad decision."

"But –"

"If we were to face this situation again tomorrow," he interrupts, "would you change anything?"

She ponders his question for a few moments before she shakes her head. "Probably not, sir."

"That's how you know you made the right call."

The silence that follows his revelation is deafening and he feels some of the tension leave Sam's body.

"We're all out of our depth here, Sam, and there will be times when we'll have to make difficult decisions, but we're a _team_. We need to trust each other and trust ourselves that we are doing the right thing. OK?"

When she nods, he nudges her elbow with his. "Trust yourself, Carter – because I do."

It takes a few seconds before Sam looks up at him but it takes him a while to realize he's staring and quickly averts his gaze. Seeing the chocolate bar still in his hand, he decides to rip open the packaging.

"Um, sir?"

"I'll get him another one," he shrugs. "The docs will be a while."

He breaks the bar in half and hands it to Sam, noticing the way her fingers brush against his as she takes the proffered chocolate. He observes her until she meets his gaze. Her eyes are wide and bright and he can finally see her self-belief start to return, but there's also a vulnerability there that he finds strangely captivating. Slowly, he finds himself matching her smile and as he leans back in the chair, he's happy to let the silence fill the space, knowing that Sam – and SG-1 – will be just fine.

* * *

 **So, even though Dr Harlow initially (and naively) sided with Maybourne, I really liked his character, but I felt that Sam struggled with his presence at the SGC – even after he switched sides to help them save Teal'c. She just seemed a little awkward around him, as if she doesn't fully trust him... or herself for recommending him in the first place, so that's where my sleep-deprived brain ended up.**

 **Also, whilst I wouldn't call 'Bane' an overly shippy episode, there is one really cute S/J moment. It's just after Jack suggests using the defibrillator on the symbiote, and when his idea works, he makes a comment about his "work here being done" and Sam smiles in response – but he's looking RIGHT at her when he says it and then when he casually shrugs, he's like, 'Yep. Made Carter smile. My job here is done.' And then he shoots her a little grin.** **I'd never noticed it before but trust me, it's there. I had to watch this episode twice today and I ended up obsessing over this scene.**


	87. All The World's A Stage

**Author's Note: Written for 'World Theater Day' (27 March).** **As this is AU, I've fudged a few of the details. Just... humor me for this one.**

* * *

With a glance around the crowded auditorium, Sam sighs softly as her gaze lands on a number of happy families. There are mothers, fathers and grandparents reuniting with their children and grandkids, praising their acting skills for the play they've just starred in.

Elementary school productions aren't really her idea of fun, but she's here for her niece and nephew. It's another olive branch from her brother as he tries to have a greater presence in her life and mend a few of the bridges he burned years earlier. Sam isn't convinced they have a lot in common anymore, but as they are the only immediate family each other has left, she thinks the least they can do is be civil towards one another.

 _It's for the kids,_ she keeps telling herself.

"Aunt Sam!"

She spins at the sound of her name and manages to steady her stance just in time as her niece, Lisa, flings herself into her arms. David, her nephew, isn't far behind and he smiles as he throws his arms around her waist.

"You made it."

"I wouldn't have missed it for the world," she grins, as she ruffles his hair. "You were both great."

"Do you like my costume?"

It's only when Sam straightens does she realize that Lisa is still wearing her costume and her gaze roams over her dress and to the small, glittery pair of red shoes that adorn her feet.

"I love it," she nods enthusiastically, and is glad when Lisa beams at her. "You make a great, Dorothy."

Her niece quickly starts to regal them of the story of The Wizard of Oz, despite the fact that they've just sat through the play, when out of the corner of her eye, Sam notices a little boy make their way towards them. He's still dressed as the scarecrow and Sam can't help but smile at his cute appearance. He stops abruptly a few feet away, hovering far enough so that he isn't intruding, but just close enough that makes it clear it's their group he wants to speak to.

"Charlie!"

Sam glances to Lisa before she watches her run towards the boy and throw her arms around his neck. She frowns in bemusement and steals a glance at Mark, but he's stopped from responding when another man's voice breaks through the crowd.

"Charlie, buddy. What have I said about running?"

"Sorry, dad," he mumbles.

There's a moment of silence that passes where Sam hears a sharp intake of breath, only to realize that it's her, because the man who's now standing by Charlie's side is probably the most attractive-looking man she's ever seen in her life.

"Jack," her brother suddenly greets from her right-hand side.

"Mark," the man nods.

He then says hi to Lisa and David in a way that seems familiar and easy going, and it piques Sam's interest, but it's only when she feels a tug on her hand, that she realizes she's been staring at the newcomer and she glances down to see her niece has latched onto her arm.

"I think you made a great Dorothy," Jack says and Lisa turns to look up at her.

"That's what Aunty Sam said too!"

Jack slowly meets Sam's gaze and there's a moment that passes between them where time seems to stand still, and there's a look in his eye that Sam can't decipher but then it disappears and suddenly he's grinning at her.

"For a moment there," he says, "I thought she was going to call you Aunty Em."

She huffs out a laugh at his attempt at a really bad joke but before she can say anything, Mark steps up to her side.

"Jack. This is my sister, Samantha."

"Samantha," he drawls, and Sam's heart skips a beat at the sound of her name leaving his lips. "It's nice to meet you. Mark has told me absolutely nothing about you."

She snaps herself out of her thoughts and smiles at his introduction. As she shakes his proferred hand, she quips, "Now, why doesn't that surprise me?"

However, when Mark doesn't object to her question, she risks a glance at her brother and finds him staring at both her and Jack curiously.

"I've mentioned you," he says eventually. "The guys know I have a sister."

Sam frowns in confusion. "The guys?"

"Yeah," Mark nods. "Jack and I work together over at Cheyenne Mountain. We're on the same team."

"Oh."

She knows she can't hide her surprise, but as handsome and alluring as Jack seems to be, she can't help the disappointment she feels at the discovery that the first man she falls for since Jonas Hanson also turns out to be a military man. She promised that she would never put herself through that again, but she lets her gaze flicker towards the stranger to find he's staring at her in a way that makes her knees go weak.

She needs air, a little space between them so she can think clearly and not think about the affect he's suddenly having on her body, but she seems unable to move.

Instead, she hears Mark inviting both Jack and Charlie to dinner with them and while the little boy is quick to accept, Jack steals a final glance at her before he nods in agreement.

"Sure," he says. "Maybe it'll give me a chance to find out more about this mysterious sister of yours."

She wants to roll her eyes or be offended at the fact that he's openly flirting with her _in front of her brother_ , but she doesn't, because she isn't. Instead, her traitorous heart speeds up and she feels her face grow hot.

Whatever happens over dinner, she has a nagging feeling that getting to know Jack O'Neill is about to become the best and worst decision she's ever made. **  
**


	88. Sticks And Stones

**Author's Note: Written for 'Something on a Stick Day' (28 March), a day "to celebrate the foods we love to eat – that just happen to come on a stick."**

 **I didn't stick to that definition.**

* * *

"How are you holding up, Carter?"

He waited as Sam prised her eyes open and slowly turned her head to face him. He winced at the purple and black bruising that marked the left-hand side of her face, while her bottom lip was swollen from where it had split open earlier.

"I'm… fine. Sir."

He couldn't miss the raspiness in the major's voice and an uncontrollable anger surged forward, battling for dominance with the panic that welled inside him.

"We'll be outta here soon, Carter," he murmured. "You just need to hang on for a little longer."

"Yes, sir."

Moments later, her head fell forward as she passed out again, and Jack's gaze snapped to her wrists. The both of them had been trussed to wooden stakes, their wrists bound above their heads, but because Sam kept passing out and couldn't hold her own weight, the rope had rubbed and left red, angry welts on her skin.

Guilt swarmed Jack and he gave his own bonds a tug but they were too tight. Even if he could free his hands, he wouldn't be able to reach Sam, to touch her and tell her that he'd get her out of this mess and save her.

It was his fault they were in this mess in the first place – even if it had been an innocent mistake.

Negotiations with the people of PYZ-844 – or Dromosa – had been going well and they had even thrown a celebration in the team's honor, but when it came time to call it a night, Jack had reached out to help Sam to her feet. And that's when all hell broke loose.

According to the Dromosians, the act was sacrilege because in their culture, men and women – unless married – were explicitly forbidden to touch. Daniel had tried to explain that Earth's customs were not the same, but the locals had argued that as SG-1 were visitors to their planet, their laws had to be respected.

Daniel then had to get creative and put forward a disconcertingly compelling case that Jack and his second-in-command were married. But whilst the Dromosians were more open to this explanation, they claimed the two members of SG-1 were not married on their world. Therefore, the law had still been broken.

So, the archaeologist quickly and oh-so-kindly volunteered the couple to partake in a local marriage ceremony – only for the leaders to refuse. The damage had already been done, they claimed, and the guilty parties had to face a punishment befitting of the crime. Unfortunately, as women were viewed as inferior in the Dromosians' eyes, Carter had taken the brunt of the punishment – and when Jack had quickly jumped in to try and stop them from laying a finger on Sam, he'd ended up being tied up alongside her.

The team didn't have enough firepower or manpower to shoot their way out of the situation, but in the few minutes they'd been allowed to talk to their teammates privately since the incident, Daniel said he'd been trying to negotiate their release, while Teal'c was planning to return to the Stargate to seek reinforcements. That felt like a lifetime ago. Jack's arms and legs were killing him, but his concern was with Carter. She really needed to get back to the SGC.

Movement out of the corner of his eye caught his attention and as he looked up he had to squint against the brightness of the afternoon sun. It took a few seconds before he could make out the silhouettes of their teammates, as well as one of the leaders. As they came closer, the expression on Daniel and Teal'c's faces didn't fill him with much hope, but he was happy they were both still alive and seemingly uninjured, so it eased his mind slightly.

"Hey guys, what's up?"

"Uh," Daniel answered, frowning at Jack's attempt at levity, before his gaze wondered to Sam and his expression morphed into one of horror.

Turning serious, Jack shook his head subtly at his friend. _"Daniel,"_ he warned quietly. _Not now._

"The Dromosians have agreed that this was all a misunderstanding."

"Great," the colonel replied. "So, can you get us down from here?"

"Ah, not exactly."

"Why the hell not?"

"They want you and Sam to take a test."

" _A test?_ What the –"

"It'll be fine, Jack," Daniel quickly interrupted. "Trust me."

He pinned Daniel with a look, only for Teal'c to add, "The Dromosians want to determine for themselves that you and Major Carter are indeed betrothed."

His tone was firm, and Jack frowned as he met his gaze. He was just about to start arguing back when he caught the look in the Jaffa's eye.

"So, we should... go along with this?" He eventually asked.

"Indeed," Teal'c supplied. "I believe General Hammond would recommend this course of action."

Jack tried not to let his relief show. He could read their unspoken message. They'd managed to get word back and a rescue attempt was on its way.

"Fine," he sighed.

Daniel then turned to speak to the Dromosian leader, while a low moan from Jack's right caught his attention and he glanced over to see Sam regaining consciousness. He risked a glance in Daniel's direction and seeing they were preoccupied, he turned his head towards Carter.

"Hold on, Sam," he whispered. "We're going home."


	89. Smoke And Mirrors

**Author's Note: Written for 'Smoke And Mirrors Day' (29 March). Episode tag for season 6 'Smoke And Mirrors'.**

* * *

"Colonel!"

Sam was unable to hide her surprise at seeing her commanding officer on her doorstep.

"Carter."

"I thought you were heading home, sir?"

"I was," he sighed. "I mean, I _am_. I just… can I come in for a minute?"

Her eyes widened slightly at his request, but she found herself nodding regardless. "Of course, sir."

She stepped aside to let him in, but it was only when she closed the door and the colonel remained in the hallway, that his hesitation turned to discomfort.

"Is everything okay?"

"Yeah," he nodded.

Unconvinced by his answer, Sam gestured towards the living room.

"Can I get you a drink, sir?"

"No, thanks. This will only take a minute."

Her frown deepened at his words as she perched on the edge of the couch, while Jack opted for the small armchair.

"How was your meeting with General Hammond?"

"Ah, he thanked me for doing the Air Force a favor," he shrugged. "Said it went a long way to smoothing over the bad publicity."

"For something you didn't even do in the first place," she scoffed.

"Hey, you don't need to tell me, that."

An uncomfortable silence fell at his words as they met each other's gaze.

"Sorry, sir."

"I also had a chat with Teal'c and Jonas," he added, seemingly eager to move the conversation along. "Apparently they committed a few crimes of their own when I was away."

Sam pressed her lips together to try and hide her smile. She'd heard about Dr Langham's injuries.

"So, it made me wonder," he continued lightly, but Sam could hear the barely veiled tension underneath, "What rules my major broke."

It wasn't a question, but as his gaze snapped to hers, Sam felt compelled to answer.

"I did what needed to be done to get you back, sir."

"That doesn't answer my question, Carter."

"I'm pretty sure you already have a fair idea of what I got up to."

"Color me intrigued," he shrugged.

"Okay... breaking and entering, purchasing an illegal weapon… possibly a speeding ticket."

Jack's eyebrow rose in surprise. "Can I ask you something?"

When Sam nodded, he asked, "Why?"

"Why… _what_ , sir?"

"Why did you go to those lengths?"

"Because you were innocent."

"But how did you know it wasn't me?"

"I just knew."

The colonel tilted his head slightly and Sam tried not to fidget as he studied her. His expression was unreadable, so she'd no idea what he was looking for.

"You know it's funny," she said suddenly, and in a way that surprised even her. "Agent Barrett asked me the same thing."

Surprise and something akin to disdain flitted through Jack's eyes at the mention of Barrett, but Sam decided not to dwell on what it might mean. Instead, seeing the colonel staring at her, she continued.

"He wanted to know why I thought you were innocent."

"What'd you say?"

"That I just knew – because we trust each other with our lives every day."

"People can change, Carter."

"Maybe," she acquiesced. "But... permission to speak freely, sir?"

At his nod, she continued. "I know you've had to carry out _questionable_ orders in the past, but the assassination attempt... that wasn't the Jack O'Neill I knew. You're not that kind of man."

"I was. Once."

"People can change," she whispered.

Sam saw the moment her words hit home with her commanding officer. She suspected he was finding it difficult to cope with the allegations that had been pinned to his name – even though he was innocent – because she knew deep down, that he knew he was capable of everything they'd accused him of doing.

"You're a good man, sir. I'm glad you're back with us."

He met her eye and gave her a half-smile.

"It's good to be back," he eventually admitted, his mood a little lighter. "Well, I've already thanked the guys for their help – and the methods they used to get their answers." He grinned. "So, that just leaves you."

"Me?"

"Yeah, _you_ Carter," he said. "C'mere."

He got to his feet and gestured for Sam to stand as well before he reached forward and pulled her against him. _Tight._ She could feel the tension and anger still inside him, but she also felt his desperation; his fear that there could have been the smallest chance that his team would not have been able to clear his name.

She gave him a squeeze before she leaned back.

"Did Teal'c get one of those hugs too, sir?"

There was a mischievous glint in her eye and despite the seriousness of the last few days, Sam was happy when she heard her commanding officer laugh at her question.

"Nah, you're special."

Her smile fell away at the intensity in his admission. She wanted to say something – _anything_ – to ease the tension that was now building, but before she could, Jack let his arms fall from her waist.

"I should go," he murmured.

Sam nodded reluctantly in agreement and she followed him to the front door. He had it half-opened when he hesitated and turned. Doubt still remained in his eyes, but his expression had cleared from when he'd first arrived at her house.

"Look, Carter, I know things have been _strained_ between us, ever since Daniel…" He winced at his attempt at an explanation. "But I'm glad you didn't give up on me."

She took a moment to observe him, and she saw the look in his eye, heard the words he wasn't saying.

"I'll see you tomorrow, Carter."

And then he was gone, making his way down the front path and jumping into his truck as if it was something he did every day. The image made her heart stutter and she inhaled sharply.

"See you tomorrow... Jack," she whispered into a suddenly all-too-empty house.


	90. Doctor's Orders

**Author's Note: Written for 'Doctor's Day' (30 March).** **Another AU tag.**

* * *

"You wanted to see me, sir?"

George Hammond looked up from the file he was reading and gestured for his head surgeon to come in to his office.

"Take a seat, Jack."

He eyed the older man warily, but followed the order. "What's this about?"

"There's to be a new addition to your department."

"Oh, I don't think so," Jack scoffed.

"I understand your reluctance, Jack, but –"

"My team functions just fine as it is, sir."

"And no-one is disputing that. However –"

"We already have Jonas," he argued. "We don't need another probie getting under our feet."

"Cut the lad some slack," George sighed. "He's fitted in well with the team and, along with Daniel, their bedside manner helps put the patients at ease – which is more than I can say for you at times."

Jack pursed his lips in frustration, because he knew his boss was right. He might be a good surgeon, but he was just as well known around the hospital for his often-brusque demeanor.

"Who are we getting?" He huffed. "And what's their field?"

"It's actually a med student."

"Oh, for crying out loud, George!"

"I can assure you that Carter is one of the best students I've come across in years."

"You know them?"

"Our paths have crossed," he admitted, but when he caught the suspicious look in Jack's eye he lifted a hand in the air. "No strings have been pulled, I promise, but –"

A knock on the door interrupted his sentence, and when he saw who was standing there, he waved them in.

"So," Jack sighed heavily, as he remained facing Hammond. "This Carter guy. When does he get here?"

" _She_ has already arrived."

Unable to hide his surprise, Jack stood and spun on his heel as he watched Sam Carter make her way towards them.

"I take it your Doctor O'Neill," she said as she reached out a hand, which he slowly accepted. "Samantha Carter reporting for duty, sir."

"Sam's assignment to your team is non-negotiable, Jack."

"Of course it isn't," he muttered, but when he caught George's glare, he offered a half-shrug as an apology. He then ran a hand across his forehead before he looked back at Carter.

"You ever been in an ED before?"

"No, sir – but I've read every report and paper I could get my hands on," she admitted as a light blush appeared on her cheeks. "I feel like I've been preparing for this my whole life."

Jack resisted the urge to roll his eyes at her enthusiasm, but he wasn't as successful as he thought when Carter suddenly straightened and her expression hardened as she crossed her arms across her chest defensively.

"Did I say something wrong, Doctor?"

"Let's get one thing straight, Carter," he replied as he slipped his hands inside the pockets of his white coat. "This is an emergency department. We're on the front lines here – RTAs, fires, domestics. People's lives are in our hands every single second."

"I understand –"

 _"Jack,"_ Hammond warned, but he continued to address Carter.

"So, you'd better be up to the job, because I don't have time to babysit a student."

"Who said I needed a babysitter?"

He kept his expression neutral, but her quick comeback both surprised and impressed him. However, he didn't want her to know that, so, instead, he gave her a smile completely void of humor.

"What? You think I'm going to just let you walk around my department alone?"

She held his gaze for a few moments and Jack couldn't help but notice just how bright and blue her eyes were. He also couldn't deny the fact that she was very pretty. Pretty, but _young_ , he told himself and with a frown as to where that thought suddenly appeared from, Sam's voice brought him back to the current situation.

"Well, as George has already said, I'm not going anywhere. So what other choice do you have?"

He caught the glint in her eye and the challenge in her question. So, he took another step closer. He was just inches from Sam and heard the slightest hitch in her breathing, but whether that was due to his close proximity, or something else entirely, he wasn't quite sure. It did spark his curiosity however when she continued to stand her ground and refused to back down – determination sparkling in her eyes.

"You won't even know I'm here, sir."

Jack continued to study her. A part of him wanted to believe her, because he could already tell that she was going to be a great addition to his team. But that wasn't the issue. No, the issue was that there was absolutely no way that he was _not_ going to notice she was there.

"That's what they all say," he murmured huskily, before he brushed by her with a grin and headed back to his department.


	91. Learning Curve

**Author's Note: Written for 'Crayola Crayon Day' (31 March). Episode tag for season 3 'Learning Curve'.**

 **I don't even know how I remembered the fact that Jack presented Merrin with a box of Crayola crayons in the first place because I haven't watched this episode in** _ **years**_ **, but I did so today to double-check the crayon thing to see if I was right. I actually really impressed myself with my memory recall...**

* * *

Sam rests against one of the pillars and watches as her commanding officer draws various pictures on the walls. Dogs that are purple, flowers that are red, and a group of five people that look suspiciously like characters from The Simpsons.

When Merrin laughs at the colonel's latest sketch as she colors over it – just like she does with every one of his pictures – Sam smiles softly as her CO pretends to be upset, before he chuckles and lets the little girl take the crayon from his hand.

Sam has observed the colonel play with Cassie, and a number of other kids they've met throughout their time on SG-1, but she hasn't quite seen him like this before, and the image – whilst heart-warming – is also heart-breaking.

She knows he loves kids, but she also knows why Merrin's situation and the situation of the other children on Orban affects him so much. The colonel would never say it, but Sam knows he will be thinking of Charlie.

"Something on your mind, Carter?"

She jumps at the sight of him standing to her left and feels herself blush.

"It's nothing, sir."

"Why don't you let me be the judge of that?"

She tears her focus away from the children to look at him. His expression gives nothing as to how he feels, but it's his eyes that are the betrayers. Behind the darkness, she catches the sadness and anger he harbors towards the situation; the guilt he carries over his own personal circumstances.

"Carter?"

She studies him; her eyes roaming his face. She wants to tell him that she's sorry she couldn't help him save Merrin from the Averium. She wants to reach out and touch him; to let him know he doesn't have to face the consequences of his actions alone. She wants to call him Jack; and be there for him as a _friend_ , not as his second-in-command.

In the end, however, she doesn't do any of the above, because she sees his expression shift and she realizes that she's just told him everything she was thinking. She breaks the stare and glances around at the children, laughing and smiling and playing happily around them.

"You've made such a difference in their lives, sir," she utters quietly. "You did the right thing."

It takes a few seconds, but then out of the corner of her eye, she sees him nod once before he nudges her elbow with his and gestures for her to follow.

He comes to a stop beside Merrin, picks up one of the crayons and starts to draw on the wall – a little higher than before, so it's just out of her reach. When he finishes, he steps back and lets Sam get a closer look. It's a crude sketch of a matchstick figure, but it makes her smile and she turns to find the colonel watching her intently. He swallows hard and suddenly she _knows_.

He isn't able to tell her what he really wants to either, but this? _This_ is his way of showing his appreciation.

She flicks her gaze back towards the drawing and smiles at his representation of her.

"Did I get it right?"

His question is quiet, hesitant; as if her answer holds a far greater meaning than just yes or no.

"Oh yeah," she smiles as she meets his eye. "It's way more than right."

* * *

 **The final exchange between Sam and Jack is a twist on the conversation Jack had with Merrin when he took her to the school for the afternoon. He just has this really sweet reaction when he studies her drawing of Sam.**

 **So, that is goodbye to the holidays of March. This month was by far the most difficult; to the point where I was** _ **this**_ **close to stopping. However, a pep talk and a kick up the backside from some of my good friends within the fandom convinced me to keep going. I hope it hasn't been a disappointment, as some of the holiday choices leave a lot to be desired.**

 **The most important part of this note, however, is that I want to say thank you (again) to every single one of you reading this right now. Your daily support, kudos, comments, messages, retweets...** _ **everything**_ **. It's overwhelming at times to discover how many of you are faithfully following each chapter, indulging in my random ideas, and enjoying the series. I literally could not do this without you all. Thank you!**


	92. A Definitive Trait

**Author's Note: Written for… a holiday that'll be revealed at the end (I don't want to spoil anything!). In my head, this takes place during season 7.**

* * *

Their gazes clash and Jack freezes.

It's their eyes.

He's seen eyes just like those before. Years earlier.

They are unmistakable, but with them they bring memories and emotions and baggage he isn't prepared for. He sucks in a breath and hopes his expression doesn't betray his feelings of unease or shock.

He looks away to try and regain his equilibrium, but he soon finds himself being drawn back. Their eyes are wide and dark; full of fear and relief and confusion, and there's a pull he feels deep inside his chest. Instinct tells him to reach out, to comfort them, but his years of military training barely wins out so he stays silent, unable to move from where he stands at the foot of the bed.

He studies the woman currently lying in the infirmary. _Really_ studies her.

The brunette hair throws him for a loop, because for reasons he _absolutely refuses_ to delve into right now, he's always pictured… blonde. Then, there's her eyes; dark brown with golden flecks. They glisten brightly under the harsh lights; the unshed tears revealing a catalog of horrors he can't even begin to imagine and he swallows hard against the sudden lump in his throat. But then her lips twist ever-so-slightly and Jack feels his heart slam against his chest.

He can't deny it – he can try – but the similarity is too striking and without even having to ask questions, _he knows._

It's just a small, lopsided grin, but it's _hers_. Identical to the one he's been on the receiving end of enough times over the years.

However, this isn't his Carter. At least, not in that way.

He's desperately trying not to focus on the implications of her arrival and what it does – or doesn't – mean for him and his team, but he's finding it difficult to maintain a professional attitude. He takes a deep breath and turns on his heel because he isn't sure he's ready to face the situation.

He hears General Hammond follow him into the corridor.

"Jack?"

"Sorry sir," he murmurs. "I just – she's –" He shakes his head and tries again. "What happened?"

"Shortly after zero-six-hundred this morning, there was an unscheduled off-world activation. Moments later, we received an IDC. It was SG-1's."

There's a beat of hesitation that Jack notices but before he can say anything, Hammond continues.

"A decision was made to open the iris, and _she_ –" he emphasizes, gesturing towards the woman in the infirmary bed, "stepped through the gate."

"She's injured," Jack says a moment later, his gaze flicking over his shoulder towards her.

"A staff blast to the left shoulder," Hammond confirms.

"Has she said anything about what she's doing here?"

"No," he sighs. "Except for what –" Hammond stops abruptly as he reconsiders his next words. "Except for what she said to you a moment ago. It's the first she's spoken since she regained consciousness."

With a frown, Jack ran a hand across his forehead.

"Colonel," the general adds softly. "We have no idea who or what we're dealing with here –"

"No, sir. We don't," he agrees, but knowing full well where this conversation is heading.

"– so, I need you to stay focused until we can gather more information." Hammond lowers his voice further, a hand coming to rest on Jack's shoulder. "I don't want to have to make it an order but –"

"I'll talk to her, sir," he interrupts.

"And I can trust you to remain impartial?"

Jack nods distractedly as he folds his arms across his chest and looks towards the infirmary bed to find a pair of brown eyes staring back, unwavering, into his.

Her words replay over and over in his mind.

 _Dad, you're alive._

* * *

 **Written for 'DNA Day' (1 April).**


	93. Conditional Surrender

**Author's Note: Written for 'Peanut Butter & Jelly' Day (2 April). Teeny, tiny missing scene/episode tag for season 8's 'Affinity'.**

* * *

Jack's never been a fan of peanut butter and jelly sandwiches, but according to Cassie he has the ability to make the best damn PB&J sandwiches she's ever tasted.

The first time he introduced her to the treat had been two months after SG-1 had found her on Hanka. The two of them had spent the morning at the zoo and as the little girl watched the different animals with a mixture of fascination and fright, she had subsequently regaled Jack with stories of the animals that were once found on her home world. However, as they'd made their way back to his house for lunch, Cassandra had been quiet and when gently pushed on the matter, admitted that she missed her mom and her life back on Hanka. Jack had quickly comforted her and decided it was as good a moment as any to try and take her mind off the subject by introducing her to another Earth rule.

Every kid has to try a peanut butter and jelly sandwich.

He smiled softly as he thought back to that afternoon. Cass thought the sandwich was the best thing on the planet – Janet did not agree.

Over the next few years, there were a number of occasions when they both knew the moment called for their little tradition, but it was never something they spoke about. They just _knew_.

Mostly, he made the sandwich for Cassie. There was the time Sam had been taken host by Jolinar, or when he'd arrived home after three months stranded on Edora, or when Daniel had chosen to ascend. Yet there was the odd time Cassie had made him a sandwich. The Entity situation and Sam's disappearance on the Prometheus last year, the two examples sticking in his mind.

So, he really isn't surprised to come home now to find Cassie waiting for him in the kitchen with two plates set in front of her, each holding a peanut butter and jelly sandwich. In fact, he'd have been more concerned if he'd arrived to find his house empty.

He sees the sadness and confusion in her eyes and all he can do is sigh because he knows that some of what she's feeling is reflected in his own expression.

"C'mere," he mumbles.

Cassie quickly makes her way over and loops her arms around his waist as she rests her head against his chest. Jack places an arm around her shoulders and squeezes tight as they stand in the middle of his kitchen.

"It's not fair," she whispers, her voice thick with tears.

He waits patiently as she proceeds to tell him the reasons as to _why_ it isn't fair while he runs a hand over her hair in what he hopes is a comforting gesture.

"I know," he eventually sighs, "but if he makes Sam happy… that's enough for me."

In a way it's true, because he wants nothing more than for Carter to be happy – even if it means him taking a step back from her life. But he also feels like a liar because he wants to be _that_ guy. The one who is allowed to love her openly and unconditionally.

He can't, but he also knows that he'll never stop loving Sam. It's just that from now on, he'll have to do it from a distance.

"Everything will be OK, Cass," he whispers as he pulls her tighter and drops a kiss to the top of her head.

Deep down, however, they both know he's lying.

* * *

 **As an additional note, thank you for the comments for yesterday's fic. It was a slightly different style for me and I know I was being deliberately obtuse and vague and confusing with the story details as you may have had to re-read it a couple of times, but I really didn't want to give anything away until the end. If I'd had more time, I think my writing could have flowed better, but I really want to turn the fic into a multi-chapter, so it was all the story I could give you for now, I'm sorry!**


	94. Fish Fingers And Vanilla Custard

**Author's Notes: Written for 'Fish Fingers & Custard Day' (3 April). This holiday supposedly celebrates the anniversary of Matt Smith's "Fish Fingers and Custard" scene in the Doctor Who episode 'Eleventh Hour'.**

* * *

Jack O'Neill learned a long time ago to never, ever question Samantha Carter's way of thinking.

Usually, it was because her theories – no matter how crazy – always turned out to be correct.

But in those rare instances, when one of her ideas was nearing the impossible, Jack vowed that he would always go out of his way to make it happen for her – even if he didn't understand the physics, or her way of thinking, behind it.

So, it was for this reason, at 0310 on a Saturday morning, he now found himself standing in the middle of a 24-hour grocery, looking for a carton of vanilla custard and a packet of fish fingers for his very pregnant wife's latest bizarre craving.

* * *

 **Apologies this is so short today; I'm currently traveling for business and my schedule for the next few weeks until I return home again, is not that forgiving.**


	95. Lie To Me

**Author's Note: Written for 'Tell A Lie Day' (4 April). Episode tag for season 7 'Chimera'.**

* * *

Jack hovered outside Sam's lab as he figured out how best to start the conversation. Usually, he'd just walk in and crack some kind of crappy joke to make her smile before he'd reveal the true reason for dropping by. But this time, he wasn't really in the mood for a chat. It wasn't the major's fault, it was just –

He ran a hand over his face and sighed. He'd promised Hammond that he would have a talk with Carter, so here he was, having finally tracked her down. He was surprised she wasn't in the infirmary, but if it was Sam's decision to leave, he didn't necessarily mind.

The sound of typing reached his ears and he moved to stand in the doorway.

"Carter?"

Sam continued to type and he frowned at the way she stared resolutely at the computer screen because, for a moment, memories of the Entity flashed through his mind. He repressed the urge to shudder.

 _"Carter!"_

She jumped at her name. "Sir?"

"You alright?"

"Yes, sir."

He shoved his hands into the pockets of his BDUs and came to a stop at the other side of the bench.

"How long have you been standing there?"

"Long enough to wonder what's on your mind."

She blushed at his words but didn't respond. Instead, she let her gaze return to the computer screen.

"So, whatcha doin'?"

"I'm putting together my report for General Hammond."

"Can't it wait?"

"I'd rather complete it now, while the details are still fresh, sir."

"Carter," he sighed as he cast a quick glance around the lab. "I've known you for seven years and not _once_ have you forgotten any detail from any mission."

Sam pursed her lips as she resumed typing. "Did Janet send you?"

He regarded her closely. The doc had voiced concerns about Sam being quiet during her post-mission check, but she hadn't told him to go and find his teammate to see if she was okay, so –

"No," he finally answered.

"Daniel?"

"Nope."

"General Hammond?"

" _I_ came to see you," he hedged.

She finally tore her gaze away from her work and looked at him. "With all due respect, sir, why –"

"Am I here?" he interrupted. "I'd like to know that too, Carter."

When she frowned, he pulled a hand from his pocket and gestured vaguely to her. "Care to tell me why you're in your lab while your – uh – Pete is in the infirmary?"

He tried to hide his grimace at the detective's name but he wasn't able to miss the fire in Sam's eyes.

"Carter?"

"No, sir. I don't."

"OK," he replied slowly. He rested his elbows on the workbench and leaned in. "I could make it order."

"Sir," she sighed. "I'm sorry."

"For what?"

"Pete."

The wince that immediately followed the cop's name told Jack that she hadn't actually meant to say it out loud. He drummed his fingers on the surface of the bench as he thought of what to say next.

"Carter –"

"The mission was compromised," she interrupted. "And it was my fault."

"It wasn't –"

"I've already apologized to the General and I'll understand if –"

"I don't want to hear it."

"– but sir."

"Ah! Carter," he said firmly, lifting both his index fingers in the air to emphasize his point. _"Stop."_

She snapped her mouth closed at his order and he sighed. "Meet me topside in ten," he added quietly before he turned on his heel and left.

* * *

As Jack made his way to the surface, he knew they couldn't leave the base in order to have this conversation, but he could do the next best thing and give them as much privacy as possible. He walked through the parking lot and towards a line of trees to the far side before he reached a small clearing. The space was hidden in the side of the mountain and surrounded by trees, while three large boulders sat in a triangular formation where someone could sit and overlook downtown Colorado Springs. He chose the boulder furthest away and waited.

He'd only been there for a few minutes when he felt her presence behind him, but didn't hear her move. Resting his elbows on his knees, he kept his attention on the valley below.

"I don't bite," he said quietly. "Take a load off."

Sam chose the boulder to his left and they sat in silence for a few moments before she spoke.

"What's going on, sir?"

"I didn't think this was a conversation you'd want to have on base."

"Colonel –"

"Take it easy, Carter. I didn't bring you up here to chew you out."

"You didn't? Then why –"

"Because I haven't seen you this pissed since your run-in with McKay a couple of years ago. Something's bothering you," he added when Sam didn't say anything.

"That's an understatement," she muttered.

Jack studied the woman by his side closely and frowned at the worry and anger and disappointment he saw in her eyes.

"What's wrong, Sam?"

" _Really,_ sir?"

He decided to ignore the look of total disbelief she threw him and waited for her to continue. "The mission was compromised, Osiris almost got away, and Pete –"

She stopped abruptly and shook her head.

"I'm not great at this whole – talking – thing," Jack sighed. "But I need you to talk to me."

"I don't think I can, sir," she whispered.

"It's either me or Hammond. Your choice."

He held Sam's gaze before he reached out and tapped the back of his fingers gently against her knee. "Talk to me, Sam."

"He should never have been there," she admitted, her gaze falling to her hands where they rested in her lap. "I don't – I swear, colonel, I never told him where I was going."

"I know."

"He had to have followed me from the base, but in order for him to do that, he must have followed me from my house."

Jack heard the slight waver in her voice and he had to stamp down on the anger rising within him because of Pete's actions.

"When he left yesterday morning," she continued. "I thought he was going back to Denver."

Jack let his attention return to the valley. "Is that what he told you?"

Out of the corner of his eye, he caught Sam's nod. "He said he was going back to file a report."

"Any idea why he would follow you?"

"No, sir."

Her hesitation made him suspicious and he glanced to his left.

"He wanted to know about my job," she sighed. "I explained it was classified and that I couldn't, but –"

"He didn't buy it."

"I guess not."

"Isn't Pete a cop?"

Sam closed her eyes. "Yes, sir."

"Then he should know what classified means."

"You'd think so."

He let Sam's admission hang in the air between them as he decided whether now was the time to press ahead with what Hammond wanted to know.

"Carter," he started. "Do you trust me?"

"Sir?"

He met her gaze and leaned in closer. "Do you trust me?"

"Of course."

"OK," he nodded. "Do you know an Agent Dave Farrity?"

Sam shook her head and Jack grimaced. "Yeah, I was afraid of that."

"Why? What's wrong, sir?"

"I had a little chat with Hammond earlier, before I found you in your lab," he admitted, running a hand through his hair. "There was a background check carried out on you yesterday. Top down, global agency search, the works."

Sam's eyes widened at his words. "And you think this Agent Farrity was responsible?"

"We've confirmed it was him," Jack nodded. "Your name flagged up as soon as it was entered into the system. Farrity didn't realize he was dealing with matters of national security until someone from the SGC contacted him."

"Why was he running a check on me?"

Jack paused. "He said he was following an order."

"From who?"

He met Sam's gaze, but before he could tell her who was behind it, he saw the moment she pieced it together.

"Pete," she whispered. "Why would he – why would he lie to me?"

Jack winced at her question because he had no idea why the cop would lie to Sam. It was _Samantha Carter_ , and if he wasn't able to trust her and accept her word, then he sure as hell didn't deserve her. Despite his feelings on the matter, however, he wasn't sure it was his place to tell her to dump the idiot, so he did the only thing he could. He told her the truth.

"I don't know," he offered, "but maybe that's something you need to ask Pete."

He saw her eyes glisten with unshed tears and he wanted nothing more than to pull her into his arms and comfort her, to take away the pain her boyfriend had caused.

"C'mere," he murmured as he got to his feet.

He wrapped his arms around her and rested his cheek against the top of her head.

"For what it's worth," he said, angling his lips next to ear. "I'm sorry, Sam."

She pressed closer and tightened her arms around him. "So am I," she whispered.

* * *

 **OK, so this episode just makes me mad.** **I get that the writers were trying to develop Sam's character into something other than a 'soldier' and 'scientist', and that's fine, but I just cannot correlate the fact that Pete lied to her, ordered a background check, followed her to a stakeout and even managed to get himself shot – and Sam** _ **still**_ **stays with him.** **Honestly, it gives me the rage.**


	96. Go For Broke

**Author's Note: Written for 'Go For Broke Day' (5 April), a day to "face our fears, push past all boundaries, and pursue our goals with tenacity and determination". A slight alternate reality offering for today's holiday.**

* * *

 **Washington D.C.  
April 05, 1992**

Doctor Samantha Carter blows out a long breath which ruffles her fringe. She might be an exceptional astrophysicist with an extensive knowledge of quantum mechanics, but this?

Her eyes alternate between the contents of the manila folder she holds in her hands and the unreadable expression of the older woman sitting in front of her.

She has dozens of questions she desperately wants to ask, but she also knows how the U.S. Air Force works. Even though she has already signed a non-disclosure agreement, she recognizes that the information she actually wants is on a strict need-to-know basis – and since she is yet to accept or reject their offer, she suspects the details set before her are all she is going to receive for now.

She glances again at the pages. A suspected alien device, known as a 'Stargate', is currently residing in the heart of Washington D.C. and the military have come to her because they believe she can help them activate the technology and determine its purpose.

She shakes her head in disbelief. _Alien technology._ She doesn't have the first idea as to what the job will entail, but then she suspects that no-one involved in this project really knows what their roles involve. What she does know, however, is that she's watched enough speculative movies involving extra-terrestrials over the years to know that even if other life forms did exist, messing around with something she – or Earth – know absolutely nothing about cannot end well.

The side of her brain responsible for rational thought processing and analytical considerations screams at her to reject the military's offer. Yet the other half is already focusing on the big picture and the challenge that has her desperately wanting to know more.

She's also done the whole uprooting-for-a-job thing when she was a visiting professor at the USAF Academy in Colorado Springs for a semester last year and, practically, she likes the idea that this new role lets her to stay in a place she knows like the back of her hand. It's comforting and familiar because it's her old stomping grounds, but she also views it as a fresh start from teaching, not to mention her ex-fiancé, and the more she thinks about it, the more she's tempted to accept – despite the risks that might be involved.

Reverently, she closes the folder, her eyes lingering on the large bold print that reads; 'Project Giza: Top Secret' and when she looks up, she finds Catherine Langford watching her with a small smile.

"It's a lot to take in."

Sam resists the urge to guffaw at her words, even if it does appear to be the understatement of the century. Instead, she opts for professionalism.

"Yes, it is."

Catherine nods once, then hesitates. "So, what do you think?"

Sam goes to respond, but then lets her gaze shift to the handsome stranger that stands unwavering just behind Catherine's right shoulder. He's staring at her, an inscrutable expression on his face, but she can see it in those intense, dark brown eyes that he's sizing her up, deciding whether or not she's worth the risk of bringing on board. Sam also thinks there's a hint of curiosity that swirls alongside his derision, but what it could possibly mean, she firmly pushes to one side.

She takes a few more moments, before she determinedly looks back at Catherine and smiles.

"When do I start?"


	97. Pillow Talk

**Author's Note: Written for 'Pillow Fight Day' (6 April). Missing scene for season 8 'Moebius'; set after the "You've got packing to do!" scene, but before the fishing scene.**

* * *

She's been lying in his arms for a while but neither feels the need to fill the silence. They're both sated and simply enjoying the fact that after eight years they can finally do _this_.

With her back pressed against Jack's chest, Sam feels his breathing start to even out and she knows that he's on the verge of falling asleep.

"I can hear you thinking, Carter," he mumbles.

"Sorry."

His hand – the one that's splayed across her stomach – flexes before he pulls her impossibly closer and places a lazy kiss onto her shoulder.

"What's wrong?"

"Do you think the guys will mind?"

"No," he says quietly. "They probably already know."

Turning to face him, Sam finds herself smiling at the sight of the General – _Jack_ – she silently corrects herself, with his eyes closed and the ghost of a smile on his lips.

He looks peaceful and content and it isn't a look she often sees on him and the realization that she's the reason behind it, that _she's_ the one to bring him that happiness, is heady and exhilarating. She watches transfixed as the early morning sun filters through the drapes onto the crumpled bed sheets. The beams of sunlight settle on Jack's face, highlighting his rugged features and Sam's gaze travels slightly lower. She finds herself instinctively reaching out, her fingers tracing patterns on his chest.

"Whatcha doin'?"

"You can't go back to sleep, Jack."

"Oh no?"

He cracks open an eye and grins, his hand slowly trailing along the length of Sam's spine.

"That's not what I meant," she says, trying to hide her smile. "Daniel and Teal'c will be here soon. You still need to get the spare room ready – since I haven't been using it."

"Can't they do it themselves?"

"Jack! Don't be ridiculous," she scolds lightly, before laughing. "You're a terrible host."

"I didn't hear you complaining earlier," he smirks, pulling her even closer.

It takes Sam longer than she plans to break the kiss, but then she's rolling away from him and sits up in bed. With a quick glance around the room she spots an item of clothing on the floor. Jack's gaze burns into her skin as she lets the sheet fall around her before she scoops up a t-shirt. It's his, but it covers Sam adequately and when she turns to face him, he's watching her appreciatively.

"What am I supposed to wear?" He asks as he sits up and leans against the headboard. "Somehow I don't think your sweet little tank top number will fit me."

Sam raises a brow and silently counts down from three. Right on cue, she watches Jack roll out of bed.

"Fine. You win, Carter," he mutters, causing her to smirk.

* * *

Jack leans against the door jamb, his arms folded across his chest as he watches Sam throw the comforter over the guest bed and tuck it under the corners of the mattress with military precision.

"You know, I don't think Danny will mind if there's a crease or two."

"You were supposed to do this an hour ago," she replies pointedly, glancing over her shoulder.

"Yes," he murmurs as he makes his way over to her. "But then… I got distracted."

With a gentleness that surprises her, he reaches up and brushes a strand of hair away from her face. He starts to lean in just as Sam steps back.

"Here," she whispers. "The pillows need covers."

She grins as she leaves him standing in the middle of the guest bedroom, mouth hanging open and clutching a pillow to his stomach. Sam already has the cover on the other pillow when she hears him speak.

"Y'know Carter," he says as he reaches for the cover. "You really need to learn how to relax for longer."

"I'm relaxed."

"Really?"

"Yep."

"I'm not buying it, sorry."

She throws him a smile and he shrugs in response. "What? I've seen you relaxed. This isn't it."

"Really?" She asks, parroting his earlier question.

"Oh yeah," he grins suddenly. "Like the time you drank that stuff on P3X-595 and – _oof!_ "

"You promised to never mention that again!"

"Did you just... Did you just _throw a pillow at me?_ "

"Yes. _Sir,_ " she adds belatedly.

With a nod, Jack slowly crouches down and picks it up. There's a glint in his eye and Sam knows there's only one way this is going to end.

"You'll be sorry," he drawls a second before he throws the pillow back, hitting Sam square in the chest.

"This. Means. War. General."

Within seconds, pillows are flying across the room, every time hitting their targets with surprising accuracy as both Sam and Jack try to dodge out of the way. Their laughter fills the cabin and Sam is just about to suggest that they stop when the general grabs onto the pillow she's clutching and pulls her to him. Before she can say anything though, he cups her face in his hands and closes the remaining distance between them.

Sam idly thinks the pillow falls to the floor as she winds her arms around his neck, and presses her body close to his.

"Uh, Jack? Sam?"

The pair suddenly break apart and turn to see Daniel and Teal'c staring at them from the doorway with mixed expressions.

"Are we, ah, interrupting?"

Daniel pulls a face at his question, but before Sam can try and deny anything, Jack steps behind her and places a hand on her waist.

"I don't know about you, Carter," he mumbles, "but I think they might definitely know now."


	98. Moving Forward

**Author's Note: Written for 'Make The First Move Day' (7 April), an "all-inclusive holiday when people of all ages and backgrounds come together in making the first move towards bullying prevention and recovery in all forms." A little introspective piece for season 1 'The First Commandment'.**

* * *

"Maybe we should come back and check on these guys."

"I think we've done enough, don't you?"

She doesn't mean to be short with Daniel, but when he just stares at her, Sam can also feel the colonel's eyes on her, studying, judging, and she has to look away. She wants to apologize to her teammate because the situation isn't his fault, but she's still feeling responsible for Jonas – both for his death and for the suffering he's inflicted on the people of Avnil.

When Daniel turns and walks away, his shoulder bumps against hers and she closes her eyes at the action. She knows it's the least she deserves.

"Something else on your mind?"

"I had the chance to end this, colonel," she admits before she dares to look at him. "He literally asked me to do it."

"Killing a man is no badge of honor, Captain."

She picks up on how his voice is soft, but firm, and just before she breaks the stare she catches a glimpse of regret and horror and darkness in his eyes that she doesn't think she was meant to see.

"I know."

She feels his gaze fall away from her face and not for the first time she wonders what exactly his black ops days involved and the things he's had to see and do, but she knows it is absolutely none of her business, nor is she fully sure she wants to know. She's been on the receiving end of Jonas' anger and frustration after his time in black ops, yet there's something about her commanding officer that makes her _want_ to know more – because he is nothing like her ex-fiancé. She can't explain it, but she thinks of the colonel and how he carries himself. With strength and courage and dignity, and it's a far cry from the control and abuse Jonas used to lord over her.

"Look, I'm no expert on this thing," he says suddenly into the silence, breaking through her thoughts and she glances at him before she stares unflinchingly at the bible he holds in his hands. "I generally remember one commandment, and I think it's the first."

She nods as the passage comes to mind. "I am the Lord your God, and you shall take no other Gods before me."

Sam feels him freeze by her side and she risks a glance to see a strange expression on his face. She's just about to ask him what's wrong, when he adds, "Okay, it's not the first one. I'm talking about the 'no killing' one?"

She wants to look away but his eyes bore into hers and his voice lowers so only she can hear his next words.

"No matter what the reason, every time you break it, you take one step closer to Hanson."

He holds her gaze and she's surprised by the emotion she finds there. He isn't giving her false hope or platitudes or what he thinks she wants to hear. He's giving her the reality behind their actions and the truth behind the consequences. He's helping her to see that even though she could have chosen to end the situation with Jonas, she didn't, because she is more than her ex ever gave her credit for. She may not see it right now, but she is a good person and her actions to not sacrifice his life, means she saved the piece of her soul that Jonas never managed to take. The discovery restores a little of her self-worth and she finds herself nodding at the colonel's confession.

"Thanks," she murmurs.

Sam lets her gaze roam over his face before her eyes dart down to his lips and back up just in time to see an inscrutable expression on her CO's face. Then, as quickly as it appears, he blinks and it's gone.

But he still makes the first move and hands her the bible, giving her the choice as to what she wants to do. The tips of her fingers brush against his as she reaches for it and she decides to take it for what it is; a reminder of what Jonas became – and what she didn't.

She feels the colonel's eyes on her as he moves away and she lets out a breath she doesn't realize she's been holding as she taps her thumb against the cover. Jonas will always be a part of her life, but now she feels that with her team – and particularly Colonel O'Neill – by her side, believing in her and trusting her, she can finally say goodbye to her past and move on.


	99. Enclosed Encounter

**Author's Note: Written for 'Zoo Lovers Day' (8 April).**

 **This is AU. Complete and total AU. Like, I don't even know what to use as a reference point for this timeline... sorry!**

* * *

Sam glances at the sign that displays 'Cheyenne Mountain Zoo' in large lettering and frowns. "There's no zoo in Colorado Springs."

"Yes, there is."

"Since when?"

"Since 1926, Sam."

"Oh." She flushes at her brother's deadpan answer, but when he starts to smirk, she reaches across and playfully hits his arm.

"It's not my fault," she defends. "I've only visited the Springs twice since you and the family moved here."

"Yeah," Mark sighs as he parks the truck and quickly hops out and makes his way to the back of the vehicle. As he opens the rear door and lifts his son out of his booster seat, he glances over the roof of the truck at Sam. "You won't be able to say that again."

"Hmm," she answers nonchalantly as she opens the other rear door to retrieve her niece.

She is looking forward to starting afresh in Colorado Springs and being closer to her brother and his family, but she's a little nervous about her new job. Having recently accepted a Research Assistant role at the USAF Academy, Sam wasted no time in relocating from Washington. Now, there are just a couple of weeks left before the new semester starts and she has to report to the head of her department, a Colonel Jack O'Neill. In the meantime, however, she's accepted her brother's offer show her around the area to help her find her bearings.

The zoo, as it turns out, isn't as bad as Sam envisaged and her niece and nephew are fascinated by the animals, wanting to get as close to them as possible – which leaves Sam feeling like she's spent half of the afternoon running after her niece as she continually tries to make a break for the next enclosure.

She's able to grab a hold of the little girl just as she reaches the giraffes and Sam lifts her up and settles her on her hip, determined to keep her close by for the rest of the day. She points to the animals and tells her niece about them, but she's too busy watching them herself that she doesn't realize there is somebody standing just behind her until she steps back and bumps into them.

"Oh, I'm so sorry," she says spinning around only to hesitate when she sees the man standing before her. He's tall and handsome, his tanned skin highlighting his rugged features. Her gaze travels over the leather jacket and jeans he's wearing before she glances back to his face, just as he removes his shades. His eyes are brown and warm and inviting and Sam feels herself getting a little lost in his stare.

"You're… fine," he finally murmurs, but there's a hint of a smile lurking around his lips and Sam has an inkling that he's talking about more than just her apology.

She briefly thinks the stranger is about to say something else but then Sam hears her brother call her name. She glances over her shoulder to find Mark watching her warily, but she just waves him off and turns back to face the man she walked into. However, he's also followed the shouts and his expression has morphed from one of intrigue and warmth, to one of indifference. The sight makes her heart slam into her chest and she's filled with an inexplicable desire to explain that the man calling her name is actually her brother, but before she can do anything, a little boy and girl, run up to them and grab his hand.

"Dad," the boys says excitedly. "We want to see the penguins."

This time, it is Sam's turn to feel a strange sense of disappointment and she thinks it must show on her face because the stranger gives her another inscrutable look, as if he is suddenly confused about something.

"Please, Jack," the little girl interrupts. "I love penguins!"

He turns to her and smiles. "Yeah, we're going now, Cass."

He glances back at Sam and she takes a step back. "I, ah, I should go," she says quietly, hooking a thumb over her shoulder. "It was nice to meet you."

"Yeah," he answers, matching her tone. "You too."

With a small smile, she turns on her heel and makes her way towards her brother – and tries to ignore the way she feels the man's gaze burn into her skin as she walks away.


	100. Undomesticated Unicorns

**Author's Note: Written for 'Unicorn Day' (9 April). Set during season 4, for no real reason except I like this season.**

* * *

"We have some good news and some bad news, sir," Sam says quickly as she steps into the colonel's house while Daniel and Teal'c are still getting out of her car.

He raises a brow in surprise at her words and watches as she makes her way towards his kitchen. "Carter?"

At the sound of her name leaving his lips, she hesitates and turns to face him – and Jack's surprise quickly turns to alarm. "What have they done?"

He thinks she tries to warn him really, but then their teammates appear at the front door, so she offers him what he assumes to be a placating smile before she disappears around the corner. He glances to Daniel and Teal'c, but when the archaeologist refuses to meet his eye, he knows it's _bad_.

"Daniel. Teal'c," he greets carefully.

They reciprocate in kind and Jack closes the door behind them, following them both into the kitchen were Sam promptly pushes a bottle of beer into his hand.

"OK," he says. "What's going on?"

"What makes you think –"

"You're all acting _weird_ , Daniel," he interrupts. "Is there some kind of intergalactic threat that I haven't heard –" He stops abruptly and glances at his three teammates in turn. "You said you were bringing dessert for team night."

"We have procured dessert as requested, O'Neill," Teal'c answers, stepping forward and placing a pale pink cardboard box onto the worktop.

Jack lets out a breath he doesn't realize he's been holding and feels himself relax slightly. "So, if dessert isn't the issue then what –"

He does a double take when he sees Sam grimace. "Carter, did I say something?"

"No, sir," she answers quickly, her eyes wide.

"Then what's the problem?"

"Um, well," she shifts her weight from foot to foot as she stands at the far side of the kitchen, and Jack abruptly pushes aside the thought that his second-in-command looks hot when she's flustered.

"Carter?"

"We did pick up dessert as promised, sir."

"But?"

Silently, she steps forward and pushes the box towards him. Holding her gaze, he lifts the lid of the box and then glances down and frowns.

He's staring at a box of cupcakes and he knows there's a look of disbelief on his face.

"This does not look like the cherry pie I requested."

"Uh, that's because it isn't," Daniel jumps in before he quickly escapes out of the kitchen.

"What happened?"

"Teal'c spotted the cupcakes instead, sir," Sam offers with a small smile as she too goes to walk by him. "He's decided that's what we're having for dessert."

"But –"

Any argument Jack has as to why he's staring at a dozen cupcakes instead of a pie quickly dissolve at the look his friend throws in his direction. With his fingers still clamped around the box, the colonel spins on his heel and follows the rest of his team into the front room.

He looks at the cupcakes again, then spots the writing on the inside of the lid.

 _Unicorn Cupcakes._

"What the hell are unicorn cupcakes?"


	101. Pin-Up

**Author's Note: Written for 'International Safety Pin Day' (10 April). Missing scene for season 8 'Zero Hour'.** **I don't know what it is, but I just love this episode – and Mark Gilmor! I really wish we'd seen more of his character in the show.**

* * *

"Do you think we'll get away with the bunting?"

The newly-appointed General Jack O'Neill turns to the man at his side and grins. Even though Hammond gave him the heads-up regarding Gilmor's real assignment, Jack has quickly grown to like the man, and is seriously considering asking if he would give up his day job and relocate to the SGC on a permanent basis, when they turn the corner and almost collide with a very flustered-looking Colonel Carter.

"Oh, General. Thank goodness!"

"Carter," he frowns. "What's wrong?"

"Ah," she hesitates slightly, the blush on her face deepening. "Could I talk to you for a moment, sir? Privately?"

He glances at Gilmor who looks uncertain. "We only have a few minutes, General."

Jack nods in understanding. "We only need two," he throws over his shoulder as he gestures for Sam to lead the way back to his office. "Wait here," he adds, not waiting to see if his order is followed.

He closes the door while his eyes are fixed on the woman in front of him. He tries to assess what is going on, but as Sam doesn't appear to be upset or carrying an injury of some kind, he's satisfied that she is okay and that the world isn't about to end. He tilts his head to the side.

"Penny for them?"

Again, Sam flushes at his question and his concern turns to intrigue.

"I, ah, I need your help, sir."

He's just about to ask her with what, when she suddenly launches into a speech she hasn't quite rehearsed about some kind of "unfortunate incident", but all he hears are the words 'zipper' and 'stuck' before his thoughts quickly derail, images of a half-dressed Samantha Carter pop unbidden into his mind, and he finds he's no longer concentrating on a single word the colonel says.

He tries not to let his mirth show at the scenarios his imagination is now conjuring, but his amusement quickly fades when Sam suddenly stops talking and looks at him expectantly.

"Huh?"

"I asked if you could, um… fasten my skirt. Sir."

It's only then that he lets his gaze shift just to the left of Sam's face and he sees her holding a safety pin in the air.

"Ah."

He briefly contemplates that there are a hundred reasons as to why he should help her, but equally as many – if not more – as to why he shouldn't, and as if Sam can read his mind, she quickly adds: "I would ask someone else, sir, but the President is already here and there's not enough time to –"

"Carter," he interrupts, throwing her what he hopes is an easy-going smile. "It's fine."

It really _isn't_ fine, but he suddenly doesn't like the idea of anyone else on the base – even if it is only Daniel – getting so close to his colonel. _Why_ he thinks that way, he decides to let slide for the time being.

Without a word, he steps closer and takes the pin, his fingers brushing over hers. He hesitates for just a moment as Sam turns around and lifts the hem of her jacket and Jack tries to ignore the smell of her shampoo as he leans in, or the way she jumps slightly when his hands sneak under the heavy cotton material to touch the small of her back where her skirt and shirt meet.

"Fuck," he utters, realizing he's just stabbed himself in the thumb, but when he feels Sam freeze, he winces. "Sorry," he mumbles. "I, uh…"

He thinks he should stop talking right about now, but then he hears himself make a lame joke about this scenario definitely going onto the 'pro' list for being _The Man_ and she chuckles softly in response. He feels the movement through every fiber of his body and as he swallows hard, he tells himself to focus. But even though he's usually good with his hands, all of a sudden he seems to have lost the ability to get his brain and fingers to work together and he sighs in frustration.

"Look, Carter, if we're going to do… this," he grimaces moments later, gesturing vaguely towards her lower body. "I need you to take off your jacket. I can't see a damn thing with it on," he adds with a shrug.

Something akin to understanding floods her features and she mutters a soft 'oh' before she removes the offending item and drapes it over the back of the chair. Even with the jacket gone, Jack still can't see from the angle he's standing, so he involuntarily drops to his knees and before he fully realizes what he's doing, he's staring at Carter's ass. But he _refuses_ to dwell on that little issue, until Sam starts to turn around to ask him how he's getting on, and – again, without thinking – his hands shoot up to her hips to keep her in place.

He is _completely_ aware of the fact that they are now in a _very_ precarious situation so he carefully loosens his hold, but his fingers gently and traitorously trail along the curve of her hips and down the outside of her thighs before he fully lets go. He hears Sam release a shaky breath and it's enough to bring him back to reality, so he clears his throat awkwardly and manages to weave the tip of the safety pin through the fabric.

"So," he offers in an attempt to cut through the unbearable tension that's filled his office. "You excited for this little shindig, Carter?"

He's vaguely aware of her nodding before she shrugs and disturbs the material under his hands. "It's a nice gesture on the President's part," she hedges. "But I'm looking forward to our team night more, if I'm honest."

He hums in understanding because if he's honest, he's more excited to spend the evening drinking beer and eating pizza with his former teammates as well. However, as much as he abhors the idea, this meet-and-greet visit is part of his job responsibilities now and deep down he is appreciative of the fact that Hayes genuinely is taking an interest in the Program, and of the work the people under Jack's command do on a daily basis.

Suddenly, he's pulled from his thoughts by a knock on the door, seconds before it opens and Gilmor appears. The man's gaze shifts between the general and the colonel and Jack can't help but thinks the guy looks more confused at the respective-albeit-possibly-inappropriate positions he's found both officers in, as opposed to alarmed or surprised, and he idly wonders if he should be more bothered by that fact than he actually is.

"The, uh, President is almost here, sir."

"Thank you, Gilmor," Jack answers quickly before he turns his attention back to Sam's ass – skirt. _Her skirt_ , he reminds himself. "We'll be right there."

It takes one final attempt and another quiet curse before Jack breathes out a sigh of relief and secures the pin.

"Voilà."

He's getting to his feet just as Sam starts to move, so he places his hands on her shoulders to keep her still.

"Let me, Carter," he says as he lifts her jacket and helps her into it.

"Thank you, sir."

She turns to face him, but her attention is on her cuffs, so Jack takes the opportunity to admire Sam in her uniform.

"I don't know if I've told you this before," he murmurs before he can stop himself. "But you look good in dress blues."

His words make her blush all over again and as she meets his eye, he decides it's definitely one of the most beautiful sights he's ever witnessed.

They hold each other's gaze for a few more seconds before Sam's focus shifts to a point just over his shoulder. "We really should go."

It's on the tip of his tongue to ask if they could – and should – blow off Hayes' visit, but he doesn't think it'd be a good idea for so many reasons, so he just nods in agreement and waits until she passes before he starts to follow, but suddenly Sam stops at the threshold and spins on her heel.

He raises a brow in question and refuses to react as she boldly lets her gaze wander up and down his body. She throws a quick glance over her shoulder before moving to stand just inches from him. A smirk shapes her lips as she meets his eye and slowly she reaches out, her hands hovering over his own jacket, her fingers reverently tracing the star that adorns each of the shoulders.

"I think you look great in uniform too, sir," she whispers, a glint clearly visible in her blue eyes, but before Jack can respond, he's standing alone in his office, and really, _really_ wishing he had suggested the two of them skip out on the President's visit.


	102. Man's Best Friend

**Author's Note: Written for 'Pet Day' (11 April).**

 **To be honest, I wasn't sure what to write today, but when I started typing, this is what spilled out of my head. There is mention of a dog in this chapter – but that's kind of the only link it has to the holiday…**

 **Missing scene for season 4 episode '2010', immediately after Jack and Sam's stand-off at the cabin.**

* * *

Sam storms around the side of the cabin, silently cursing her former commanding officer. But she's angry. A part of her knows she has absolutely no right to feel anger towards the colonel – _Jack_ – or how he's reacted to her plea for help, but the other part of her selfishly believed that he would listen and realize the danger Earth is in.

She spins on her heel to take one final look at the scene before her and she has to swallow hard at the lump that forms in her throat. The cabin is rustic in its charm and just screams Jack, as do the trees and long-forgotten paths that surround the dwelling. He always was more at peace when he was outdoors, despite his oft-heard complaints during their missions.

A sad smile graces Sam's lips as she thinks back on the years they worked together, side by side. When things were simpler and yet more complicated. When they could have a conversation – with or without words – and knew each other better than they probably knew themselves. When they listened to what the other said. Trusted them without question.

She tries to force those thoughts aside because it's too late for those regrets now, but as she steals one final glance at the cabin, she can't help but wish she had accepted just one of Jack's invitations to visit all those years ago. Now, in the cold light of day, she realizes the rules and regulations that she'd lived by for so long, are no longer important and she feels it somewhat ironic that she is only seeing the side of the colonel's life she so desperately once wanted to be a part of, when their world is getting ready to end.

Maybe it's what she deserves though, because she knows that she doesn't deserve to be happy. Not after the part she's played in this entire sorry situation.

She really needs to get back to Daniel and Teal'c, but instead of signaling for the transporter she moves towards the front of the cabin and half-turns before she sits down heavily on the small bench on the porch, her gaze never staying on one spot for any length of time. She's not sure how long she stays there in the end, but she jumps when someone sits beside her.

"Who all knows about this?"

Sam looks at him from the corner of her eye, but even though he's staring straight-ahead, this close she can see his jaw clench and she can feel the tension radiating off him in waves, but the anger in his voice is gone. He sounds tired and it makes a little of her own anger dissipate.

"Only Daniel, Teal'c and Janet."

"Do they know you're here?"

"Yeah."

"Let me guess," he sighs. "They're waiting back at Aschen HQ to hear whether I'll help or not."

She winces at his question, but nods.

"So," he hesitates. "Is this another thing you haven't had a chance to tell your ambassador?"

Sam's gaze sharpens, but Jack steadily meets her eye.

"I can't help but wonder why he doesn't know."

She thinks something of Daniel's words from the previous night must slip into her expression, when a low whistle escapes the man sitting to her right. "Unless you don't _want_ him to know," he surmises, shifting slightly as he looks away and lets his elbows rest on his knees.

It isn't an accusation, but it feels like one, and Sam finds herself suddenly trying to defend the reasons why she has yet to confide in her husband.

"I just think it's better that the less people know, the better."

"He's your _husband_ , Carter. Can't you trust him?"

The bitterness that leaks into his words has her pulling back slightly, but before Jack can apologize or she can tell him he's out of line, she sighs.

"I wanted to tell him," she admits quietly, her gaze falling to her hands that are now entwined on her lap.

"And yet… you haven't."

"No. Daniel –" She stops abruptly, not sure why she feels the need to tell him the rest, but she does anyway. "Daniel suggested I shouldn't."

"Why?"

"I – he –"

"Carter?"

She jumps to her feet and starts to pace back and forth. Even though she's outside in the fresh air, she feels like she is suffocating, and it's all just too much and –

 _"Sam."_

She freezes. It's the first time she's heard her name fall from his lips in ten years and the emotions it stirs within her is something she isn't prepared for.

"Does Joe know what the Aschen have been doing?"

The softness that was in his voice moments earlier has vanished and is instead replaced with a dangerous edge. It pulls her back from the brink and she turns to look at him.

"I don't know, sir – Jack," she corrects. "I don't think so, but –"

"Daniel thinks otherwise?"

"No, well, maybe. I just… we don't know who we can trust," she says. "And we can't risk the Aschen finding out. This is the way it has to be."

"If you aren't sure who you can trust," Jack answers as he gets to his feet and slowly makes his way towards Sam. "What are you doing here?"

"Because it's you."

The certainty with which she answers surprises them both, and she takes a few seconds to gather her thoughts.

"Despite everything that's happened," she says, wincing at the waver in her voice. "You are still the one person I trust with my life."

A laugh completely void of humor escapes Jack and he takes another step closer, his voice lowering. "You're about ten years too late with that sentiment, Carter."

She feels like she's been slapped in the face and she watches as the emotions she saw in the colonel's eyes slowly disappear and are replaced with indifference.

"You want to trust me, Carter? Then you should have listened to me when we first met the Aschen."

"We had no idea there would be consequences –"

"I've had ten years to live with the consequences," he interrupts. "Consequences that you all brought on yourselves."

"Jack –"

"No. Stop it," he snaps. "You don't get to come here and guilt me into trying to help fix your mistakes just because you don't like the way things turned out. I don't care for how some things ended either, but you don't see me going around, begging for help."

"I thought you said you liked things just the way they are."

"I don't miss saving the world," he offers. "Or having my life being put in jeopardy every other day."

"But you do miss other things?"

She sees him bite back a retort, thinking about what he wants to say against what he should say. He sighs heavily.

"You said earlier, that if we manage to go back and change _this_ ," he pauses, gesturing vaguely around them, "the past ten years won't happen."

"They won't."

"So, if we don't go to '970, there's no Aschen and no treaty. Does that mean we – that things between us turn out differently?"

"I don't know," she admits quietly. "But I think it's fair to say yes. Meeting the Aschen was the catalyst for this chain of events. If we don't meet them, we don't have our… disagreement."

"It was more than a disagreement, Carter."

"You were the one who walked away."

"Because I didn't have any other choice!"

His voice echoes loudly in their otherwise silent surroundings and he sighs.

"In all the years we worked together, I never asked you for anything," he growls. "But the _one_ time I implored you to listen to me – to _trust_ me – you didn't want to know."

She closes her eyes in shame as she recalls the argument that led to him storming out of the SGC – and her life – and she feels the tell-tale sign of tears pricking her eyes.

"We screwed up, sir," she finds herself whispering. " _I_ screwed up."

The confession costs her a little more of the fight within her and she feels herself sway on her feet. Without warning, Jack turns and moves towards the bench, gesturing for her to follow. It's only when she sits beside him, that he starts talking again.

"Years ago, after Charlie…" He winces as he trails off, but he seems determined to say what's on his mind, so Sam waits patiently. "I'd resigned myself to living out my life – my retirement – alone," he says, as he plucks a long blade of grass from the ground and begins to twist it between his fingers. "And I was fine with that. The solitude, the quiet, no people to see or deal with… but then I met you."

Sam's gaze snaps to his face just in time to see a wry smile on his lips. "Suddenly, being alone didn't hold the same appeal it once did. I know nothing ever happened – between us," he continues. "But I always hoped that one day, we'd have the chance to be together. And maybe, just maybe, there'd be kids – and a dog. The whole package," he mutters, so quietly Sam almost misses it.

But she doesn't and she inhales sharply at his admission. She feels the tears start to build again but refuses to let them fall. She's pretty sure he can hear her heart thumping in her chest, she doesn't need to let him see her fall apart as well.

When Jack flicks his hand outwards, making her jump, she watches the blade of grass twist and fall to the ground, as if it's foreshadowing what's about to come.

"Then, when the treaty with the Aschen went ahead and you –"

She hears his voice falter and she instinctively reaches out to touch him, but his attention falls on her hand and he shakes his head once. She's hurt by his unspoken command, but she complies and lets her hand fall back to her lap.

"You said the alliance with the Aschen was a big mistake."

Sam nods at his words, and he turns to look at her, his gaze roaming over her face before he swallows. "My big mistake was letting you go."

She doesn't know what to say to that, so she closes her eyes against the vulnerability she sees in Jack's eyes.

"I'm so sorry," she whispers as she lets her head fall back against the bench.

"How certain are you that your plan will work?" he asks after a while.

She cracks open an eye and looks at him curiously. "If we can manage to get a message through the gate, it'll work."

"But it's getting to the gate that's the problem?"

She nods and sits up. "The terminal where the Stargate is located is the last heavily defended place left on this planet."

"So, you're gonna need back up," he says distractedly.

"Does this mean you'll help us?"

She doesn't quite manage to keep the hope out of her voice, but then he shakes his head and she feels her mood dampen again.

"No," he says. "But I'll think about it."

"Thank you," she whispers.

Sam holds his gaze and suddenly she feels like they've been transported to ten years in their past when they both faced each other across a Goa'uld forceshield. Even on that occasion they were so close and yet too far apart.

They sit in silence for a few more seconds before Sam stands. "I should go," she says, gesturing vaguely over her shoulder. "Daniel and Teal'c –"

"Yeah, you don't want to keep them waiting," he nods.

"It was good to see you again, Jack."

"You too, Sam."

She gives him a half-smile as she turns to leave but then she stops and in two strides she's standing before him. Without preamble, she leans down and presses her lips to his. The move startles Jack and without thinking, Sam uses the opportunity to run the tip of her tongue against his lips. He opens his mouth to her without hesitation and deepens the kiss, his hand reaching up to cup the side of her face.

The little voice in her head tells her that everything about this is wrong, but she doesn't listen. She _can't_ listen, because all she can think about is _how fucking right_ this feels. He surrounds her and the smell and taste and touch of him ignites a spark deep inside her chest that she realizes with painstaking clarity burnt out ten years ago. Joe has _never_ made her feel like this, and it makes her even more determined to see this plan through.

With every ounce of strength she has, she breaks the kiss, but leans her forehead against his as she tries to catch her breath.

"You really should go," he says, his voice rough, and Sam nods.

She only makes it halfway down the path before he breaks the silence.

"Sam?"

She turns back to look at him and he gets to his feet, shoving his hands into the pockets of his jeans as he rocks back on his heels.

"Tell the guys I won't help you."

"Sir?" she frowns.

He pauses as he presses his lips together, seemingly deciding against what he was initially going to say. "If you really don't know who you can trust, this is the way it has to be."

She holds his gaze and finally she sees it. Everything he still wants to tell her but can't, because he's already slipping back into soldier mode, to the way things used to be. So, she nods slowly in understanding and walks away without another word.

She won't tell her former teammates about this conversation, nor will she tell Joe that she paid her former CO a visit to ask him to help erase the life they've made together, but she doesn't care. It's better this way, because this isn't the way things are supposed to be.

As she waits for the transporter to take her back to Daniel and Teal'c, Sam feels alive. She feels like she can breathe again for the first time in a long time, and it's because deep down she knows Jack has already made up his mind.

They'll all have their own roles to play in this final battle. They will fight for each other and to the death, but Sam also knows that this is their only hope of giving _them_ another chance at a future together – and she'll be damned if they screw it up again. **  
**


	103. Grilled Cheese And First Dates

**Author's Note: Written for 'Grilled Cheese Sandwich Day' (12 April). Set post-Threads.**

* * *

There's no nervousness that would usually be associated with this kind of thing, because aside from the fact that they've known each other for eight years, they haven't had much time to discuss anything beyond _always_ because there's no need to.

He doesn't cook her a fancy three-course meal or ask if she prefers red wine to white.

He doesn't suggest they go dancing or even to the movies.

He doesn't say he'll pick her up at eight, or that she's to be at his house instead.

But he does leave the invitation open that she's welcome to stay the night without question or judgment.

He does stand before her as she throws her arms around his neck and pulls him close as she cries against his chest. He doesn't know if the tears are for Pete, or her father, or _them_ , but at this moment in time, he doesn't care. He just wants to be the one that's there for her and make sure she's going to be okay.

And he does let her sleep in his bed while he makes up the guest room.

He also decides that she needs to eat, so when he pops his head into his bedroom and sees her starting to stir, he quietly makes his way back to the kitchen.

It's another five minutes before she appears and he instinctively pulls out a chair for her as she reaches the table. Silently, he sets down a plate of grilled cheese sandwiches and two bottles of beer and the smile that she gives him makes everything worthwhile.

It lets him know that this – _this_ is what they've been waiting for and it just feels _right_.

He takes a bite of his sandwich and can't help but feel like this is their first date of many and for them, it's pretty perfect.


	104. Scrabbled

**Author's Note: Written for 'Scrabble Day' (13 April).**

 **This is based on a fic I wrote _years_ ago, but it has now been reworked and changed – hopefully for the better. It is a multi-chapter, of which all are written, but for now, you're only getting the first one… sorry! :)**

 **Missing scene for season 7 'Lost City', set shortly after the team is at Jack's house and Hammond has told them he's been relieved of command.**

* * *

Sam hovers by the front door and waves goodbye to her teammates until Daniel's car disappears from view. As she turns to head back into the house, she can't help the chuckle that escapes; even after all these years, Daniel is still a cheap date.

"Do you think Daniel will regret drinking all those beers tomor–" She trails off and frowns when she finds the living room empty. "Sir?"

Greeted by silence, she decides to forgo cleaning up the empty pizza boxes and beer bottles in favor of finding her commanding officer. The sliding door at the far side of the room is still closed, so she assumes he isn't in the yard and goes to the kitchen, only to discover he isn't there either.

"Sir?"

There's no verbal response, but she hears a dull thud from further down the hallway and it tells her everything she needs to know. She stops outside his bedroom and seeing the door is ajar, hesitates over whether or not she should go any further.

"Colonel, is everything okay?"

When he doesn't answer, Sam's concern increases and overrules any misgivings she might have. She knocks on the door before she pushes it open and she finds him lying on the bed, facing away from her. She feels like she is intruding, but she makes her way over to him. His eyes are closed and she carefully reaches out, placing a hand on his shoulder.

"Sir?" she whispers.

"Yeah?"

"Are you feeling alright?"

Slowly, he opens his eyes and looks straight at her, but it's almost as if he's also looking straight through her and Sam instinctively knows something is wrong.

But he doesn't answer her question. Instead, he pushes himself into a sitting position and swings his legs over the edge of the bed.

"Take a load off," he sighs, gesturing to the space to his left. Sam follows his order and sits down, her leg brushing against his.

"Is everything okay, sir?"

"Just peachy, Carter," he snorts.

She grimaces. She's all-too-aware that it was a ridiculous question to ask, but suddenly she feels uncomfortable.

"I should go," she says by way of apology and moves to stand but she doesn't get far before Jack grabs her wrist.

"You can stay."

She nods and sits back down when he doesn't release his hold on her.

"Sir," she hesitates. "Before Daniel and Teal'c –"

"Interrupted?"

She flashes a half-smile as he looks at her knowingly and nods. "What I wanted to say was that I –"

" _I know_."

She frowns at the colonel's interruption and he suddenly looks apologetic.

"My head's scrambled," he shrugs. "But the things I want to say… they just won't come out."

"Oh."

Suddenly, she understands and a part of her is relieved that he didn't cut her off because he didn't want to hear what she had to say, but the other part of her is saddened because it's another harsh reminder of the sacrifice he's made for Earth.

"I'm sorry," she whispers, giving his hand a squeeze.

She feels him return the gesture before he mumbles, "I have a headache."

She's surprised by his admission, because she can count on one hand the number of times her CO has admitted he's been in pain before, so she knows it must be one hell of a headache.

"Have you taken –"

"No. They wouldn't help anyway; that headsucker's a bitch."

Sam's lips quirk into a small smile before the colonel suddenly squeezes his eyes shut and pinches the bridge of his nose with his free hand. Of its own volition, her hand pulls free from his vice-like grip and she reaches over, her fingers gently touching his temple before they slide into his hair.

When Jack turns to look at her, his gaze flicks down to her lips and he starts to say something, only to stop. Without thinking, Sam leans in to place a kiss on his cheek, but then he turns his head at the last second, causing their lips to meet. The kiss only lasts for a few seconds, before they break apart.

"You should get some rest," she whispers softly, thankful her voice sounds somewhat steady.

"Hm."

She gives his hand one final squeeze before she leaves the room, but just as she's about to close the door, she hears a heavy sigh escape the colonel.

* * *

Sam uses the next hour to tidy the house from the team's earlier impromptu get-together. She's in the middle of wiping down the kitchen worktop when she hears a noise come from the living room. Pausing in the doorway, she watches as Jack pulls the coffee table towards the armchair and starts to set up what looks like a Scrabble board.

"Are you feeling better, sir?"

"Not really."

"Oh."

She doesn't move, but continues to watch as he grabs the bag of letter tiles and tips them unceremoniously onto the board before he proceeds to piece words together. They aren't situated the way the game rules state: rather, each word is created separately, as if they are part of a sentence.

Sam's gaze shifts from the board to the colonel's face and she frowns. It's almost as if his actions are deliberate – spelling out a message. There's a distant look in his eye, not so dissimilar to the one he sported the last time the Ancient repository started to take over his mind, and she quickly moves into the room to stand by his side.

"Sir," she begins carefully. "Do we need to get you back to the SGC?"

"I don't know, Carter," he answers harshly. "I just – I can't explain it, but I _need_ to do this."

Taking a deep breath, she nods and balances on the arm of the chair. She studies the board but the words make no sense, and when she risks a glance at her CO she wonders if the download is taking over at a more accelerated rate than before.

She forces her attention back to the words.

 _Abicierum._

 _Deserde._

 _Puta._

Suddenly, the colonel's hand lands on her knee and she jumps. He's watching her intently.

"What – what does this mean?"

"I don't know," he grimaces as he runs his other hand across the back of his neck. "Well, I do. Sort of, but – look, Sam, if I don't – if you can't find a way to get _this_ outta _here_ –" he says, gesturing vaguely to his head.

"We will find a way."

"– but if you don't," he continues. "Promise me that you'll ask Daniel about this. He'll know what it means."

She follows his gaze back to the board and nods, etching every word deep into her memory, because even though she will do everything she can to save Jack, she also can't ignore the growing sense of foreboding that she's about to lose him.


	105. Moonlight

**Author's Note: Written for 'Look Up At The Sky Day' (14 April), and the holiday is "to encourage people to take a little time to slow down and appreciate the little things in life". Set post-series.**

* * *

"Cotton candy?"

"Nope!"

"Marshmallows?"

"No!"

"Ah, I've got it. Cheese!"

 _"Nooo!"_

Jack grins at the giggles that escape his daughter, laying curled against his side as they study the night sky together.

"Okay then my little genius," he says. "What is the moon's surface made of?"

"Volcanoes, impact craters and lava flows."

" _Gah!_ You've been listening to mommy's technobabble again," he mockingly scolds, before he reaches out and tickles the little girl's sides.

Another bout of laughter ensues and Jack's grin only widens.

 _This._ This is what made the fight against the Goa'uld worth it, because even through the pain and sacrifice and loss, he's still received his happy ever after.

"I love you, daddy."

"I love you too, munchkin."


	106. On The Edge

**Author's Note: Written for 'Take A Wild Guess Day' (15 April), a day "to turn the spotlight on hunches, brilliant leaps of deduction and outright guesswork".**

 **Set shortly after the events of Threads.  
**

* * *

"You want to know how I feel about you, Sam?"

His voice is low, husky, and she hears the slight waver as he whispers her name, right before he leaves a trail of kisses along her neck and then lets his lips hover by her ear.

"Take a wild guess."

She doesn't really need to guess because she _knows_ but she had to ask one last time because she's been walking and dancing and balancing precariously along that thin line for so long, she's unable to remember a time when she hasn't.

It's never taken much to bring her to the edge. A smile, the occasional unguarded look in his eye, or the softest of touches when he happened to stand just a little closer than was necessary, but what finally sent her hurtling over was the way he whispered, "C'mere."

He never promised her that before, but now that she has it, she doesn't want it to slip through her fingers. She's pretty confident she won't lose him again, however, because now she's _his_.

He's told her so and it's that thought that unravels the final thread of her past she'd been holding onto.

She pulls back to meet his eye and when he looks at her, she smiles before capturing his lips with hers.

Time soon becomes relative, but she finds herself not focusing on the particulars because suddenly his lips are on her collarbone, and his fingers grace her skin, leaving a trail of goosebumps in their wake. He nips and licks her skin as she presses herself against him and she realizes she is finally ready to be set free.

"Jack, please," she whispers, the rest of her sentence cut off as his lips meet hers hungrily and they crash over the edge together.


	107. Carbon Copy

**Author's Note: Written for 'Wear Your Pajamas To Work Day' (16 April). Episode tag for season 7 'Fragile Balance'.**

 **Sorry this is late. I kind of (definitely) fell asleep before I could post it.**

* * *

Jack scowls at whoever dares to glance in his direction as he makes his way towards the locker rooms. It's not his fault he's been beamed back into the SGC in his pajamas, but Hammond had refused to let him go and change into his BDUs, instead insisting that he and his mini-me report straight to the infirmary. Something about making sure they really were who they said they were.

A round of tests – and some pestering on Jack's part – later, and Janet finally agreed to release him, so when the colonel caught a glimpse of Daniel and Teal'c hovering around his clone, he hightailed it out of the infirmary. However, instead of the corridors being deserted as they tended to be a lot of the time, Jack seemed to bump into every single person on duty on his way to Level 25.

He still doesn't fully understand what has transpired over the past seven days but he knows enough to be seriously irked with the Asgard, and the fact that everyone at the SGC suddenly seems fascinated that he's walking around in his pajamas, only sours his mood further.

As he finally rounds the corner towards the locker rooms, Jack rolls his shoulders. Even though he's been asleep for the past week, he feels exhausted and grimy and just wants a quick shower and fresh change of clothes. He opens the door and strides into the room, only to freeze when he catches sight of Jacob leaning against his locker.

"Jacob?"

"Jack."

"I didn't know you were here."

"I guess Sam forgot to mention it," he says and Jack sees the strange look that flits across his face.

"I guess so," he nods. "Actually, I haven't seen her since we got back," he adds casually as he gestures towards his locker. He throws Jacob a half-smile when he moves to the other side of the room.

"That's… interesting."

"Really?" he replies as he opens his locker and pulls out a black t-shirt. "How so?"

"I just thought Sam would be in the infirmary – along with the rest of your team, of course."

The tone with which he finishes his sentence raises Jack's suspicions and he glances at him out of the corner of his eye.

"Yeah, well, she wasn't."

A non-committal hmm escapes the older man and Jack's jaw tightens. "What are you doing here, anyway?"

"I thought that was obvious by now."

"No, I mean _here_. In the locker room. You know, where I'm waiting to shower," Jack adds with a pointed look.

"I wanted to hang around and see for myself that it was you who actually returned."

"Couldn't say goodbye the old-fashioned way – like in the gate room?"

"I'm doing you a favor, Jack."

"Oh yeah?" he asks as he turns and throws his BDU pants onto the bench.

"Yeah," he parrots, folding his arms across his chest. "I thought you'd want to have this conversation in private."

"Wh –" Seeing Jacob's withering stare, Jack stops abruptly. "What have I done now?"

"Jack –"

"Jacob –"

"Sam really didn't tell you I was here?"

"No, she didn't. She knows you're here, right?"

"Yes, Jack," Jacob answers patiently. "She _is_ the one who contacted me, after all."

"Huh?"

Jack isn't able to hide his confusion, if his companion's sudden amusement is anything to go by and he sighs.

"She sent a message to say you were in trouble – again – and wondered if I'd be able to offer assistance."

"Oh."

When Jack turns towards his locker, he hesitates for just a second.

"Well, I'm guessing since it was Thor who finally stepped in to fix the mess, your plan didn't work," he quips as he pulls the gray t-shirt over his head.

"I don't know," Jacob fires back. "You decided to go AWOL before you actually gave us an answer."

"What was your suggestion?"

"Stasis."

"Can understand why I ran," he mumbles under his breath.

"Interesting."

"Something on your mind, Dad?"

"No, no," he says airily. "I just can't help but notice that you had absolutely no interest in receiving help from the Tok'ra –"

"Have you forgotten what happened the last time?"

"Of course not, Jack, but you were so against our help this time, yet as soon as Sam asked you to reconsider, you said you'd think about it."

"What's your point, Jacob?"

"That's twice now in the space of, what, eighteen months that Sam's asked you to reconsider a decision that might help save your life – and twice you've listened."

"So?"

He holds Jacob's gaze for a few seconds then throws his arms in the air. _"What?"_

"Tell me this," he says a little too casually for his liking. "Why is it that whenever you're on the verge of dying, I get a slightly-panicked message from my daughter asking for help?"

"I have no idea."

"Humor me, Jack."

"What do you want me to say? In case you've forgotten, I spent most of the past week in an Asgard ship as a goddamn lab rat."

"But your clone possessed all of your memories and experiences, so," he pauses, "for all intents and purposes, it was still you."

"And yet… it wasn't."

"Look, Jack," he sighs. "I gave up trying to understand Sam's feelings for you a long time ago –"

 _"For crying out loud, Jacob,"_ he growls as he turns towards the door and slams it shut. "Carter –"

"– do I think you're good enough for her? No. But –"

 _"Jacob –"_

"– you're not that stupid, Jack."

 _"Excuse me?_ "

"I'm just saying the next time I visit Earth, I want it to be because I _can_ – not because some of my favorite people are in trouble – or worse."

Jack's eyebrows shoot up and he thinks he's doing a pretty good imitation of Teal'c. "I – uh – huh?"

"Something is coming," Jacob sighs, his voice lowering. "Something big," he adds as pushes away from the lockers. "Anubis is planning an attack – we don't know where, or what form it will take, but one of our operatives says his forces are growing at a rate none of us expected."

The information sits heavily on Jack's chest and he frowns.

"It looks like I'm going to need to go off the radar for a while – find out what's going on," the older man adds. "You know I'll always help you when I can, but –"

"But you're telling me not to go and get myself shot – or worse," Jack nods. "I get it."

"Make sure you do," he says firmly. "Because I'm not sure I want to see what would happen to my daughter if something happens to you."

Jack says nothing, but holds Jacob's gaze.

"Look after Sam for me."

"Always, sir."

A heavy silence falls between the pair before a small smile tugs at Jacob's lips. He takes a step forward and pats Jack on the shoulder before he makes his way towards the door.

"Stay safe out there, Jack."

"You too, Dad," he answers quietly as he watches him walk away, unable to shake the sudden sense of foreboding that accompanied Jacob's words.

* * *

 **This chapter didn't flow as smoothly as I wanted, but when I was re-watching this episode I thought it was interesting that clone-Jack didn't want Jacob's help, however, he only agreed to "think about" his answer (even though he went on the run) when Sam chipped in with a "please". It reminded me of the scene in 'Frozen' when Jack agreed to take a symbiote and I'd never really noticed the parallels before.**

 **That, and I wanted another almost-foreboding scene with Jacob and proper-Jack, before the whole 'Evolution', 'Death Knell', 'Heroes' arc.  
**


	108. Baby, You Can Drive My Car

**Author's Note: Written for 'Ford Mustang Day' (17 April). Missing scene for '1969'.** **Apologies for the terrible title, but this song has been in my head all day long as a result.**

* * *

There is absolutely no chance of anyone knowing who they are here, but Jack refuses to rest on his laurels so when the team, Michael and Jenny make another gas stop, he takes watch. It's Daniel's turn to accompany their new friends and when they head into the store, Jack scans the surroundings and finds Teal'c browsing one of the market stalls nearby, while Sam's attention is on something across the street.

He strains his neck to see what she's focusing on, but then her expression clears and her eyes light up. It's something he's been noticing more and more lately – the look of excitement and pure joy that makes her eyes seem ever brighter and bluer than usual whenever she makes some kind of scientific breakthrough or gets her hands on a new piece of alien tech.

When she grins suddenly, Jack frowns and before he realizes what's happening, the captain is crossing the street for a closer look. He quickly locates Teal'c and signals for him to take over while he heads after Carter. He keeps a little distance and thinks he's far enough away that she doesn't know he's there, but he's still close enough that he can step in if needed. His plan quickly derails, however, when Sam looks over her shoulder and meets his gaze and like some kind of weird magnetic force, he soon finds himself by her side.

"Look at this, colonel," she beams as she turns her attention back to her object of interest. "It's stunning."

He has to force himself to look away from her face towards the car and he shoves his hands into the pockets of his jeans.

"Yes," he says fondly. "The flavor of summer sunsets and night-time drives on youth's misadventures – and yet it always managed to get you home safely."

Sam ducks her chin at his description and he can't help the grin that tugs at the corner of his own lips at her reaction.

"I didn't know you were a fan of the old Mustang, Carter?"

She nods distractedly before she has a quick look around and then reaches out, letting the tips of her fingers press against the shiny, red exterior of the car before she trails them along the ridge of the door and towards the hood. As she makes her way towards the front of the vehicle, Jack rocks back on his heels and studies her. There's an innocence that surrounds her as she takes in every single detail she can find – it's almost as if it reminds her of something in her past. He takes a few steps closer to his teammate and follows her gaze.

"I thought you'd be more of a Corvette kinda gal."

The words escape him before he can stop them and he grimaces. Thankfully, however, the captain doesn't seem to pick up on just how corny the line sounds. Instead, he notices a look of uncertainly cross her face and he gently nudges her elbow with his.

"Carter?"

"I can be," she finally admits. "Kind of."

Her vague answer only confuses him further but when he catches the slight blush that appears on Sam's face as she stumbles through her answer, he tilts his head and waits.

"There's just something beautiful about classic cars, do you not think so, sir?"

He keeps his eyes on her for a second longer than strictly necessary and gives himself a shake. Throughout this road trip he's been finding it more and more difficult to maintain a professional distance between himself and Carter and he refuses to mess the whole-getting-back-to-1999-thing up just because he suddenly seems to have realized just how amazing and beautiful his captain is outside of the job.

When he catches Sam frowning at him, he thinks he's been silent for too long so he shrugs. "Can't beat the classics."

"What did you have when you were younger, sir?"

"I actually had a Mustang. Pretty similar to this one," he adds as he pulls a hand from his pocket and lets his own fingers dance along the hood of the car.

"What about you?"

There's a beat of silence that passes before she answers.

"Uh, well, actually in 1969 I would have been eight months old, sir, so –"

Jack's amusement quickly fades as he does the math in his head and is abruptly reminded of the age difference between them – not that it should matter, he tells himself, because he shouldn't be concerned with how young Sam is _at all_ or how he suddenly feels way too old and even further out of his league than normal.

"Right," he mumbles under his breath, but before he can dwell on their age gap any further, Sam interrupts his thoughts.

"What age were you, colonel?"

He glances at her and sees the mischievous glint in her eye but he doesn't rise to the bait and simply shakes his head. "It's not important."

"So," he adds lightly a moment later and hopes his attempt at nonchalance is successful, "what attracts you to the Mustang?"

"Look at its sleek lines, sir," she grins. "And it has such a powerful engine. It just screams of wild places and adventurous times."

"Sounds like the sixties," he quips, receiving another smile from the woman to his right. "Let me guess, as soon as you were old enough to drive, you asked Dad for one?"

"I asked for an Aston Martin, actually," she replies without missing a beat as she moves to the other side of the car. "But there's just something special about the Mustang."

"Yeah?"

"Hm," she nods. "I toyed with buying a Mustang before I transferred to Washington," she suddenly admits. "I wasn't even going to drive it – it was just to have."

"Why?"

"I – um – I just really wanted one."

Her change in tone, as well as the deep blush now present on her face, piques his interest. "Carter?"

"Billy Seymour," she answers suddenly – and rather cryptically – and Jack frowns at the name.

"Excuse me?"

"Billy was my high school boyfriend," she shrugs. "Well, boyfriend is probably a bit too specific, but –"

"I get the idea," Jack interrupts, suddenly uneasy at the thought of Carter having a boyfriend with someone that isn't him. _Crap._

"Well, his parents had gone away for the weekend, so he invited me around to his house and –"

"Is this a story I want to hear?"

Sam meets his gaze and chuckles softly at the look of horror he can only imagine is on his face right now.

"It's fine, sir," she smiles. "I remember Diamonds Are Forever was on the television and it got to the scene where James Bond is in Vegas –"

"– and he takes the Mustang on a car chase," he finishes with an approving grin.

She nods and then glances down at the car. "Well, Billy was more interested in trying to get to first base, while I was more interested in the Mach 1."

Her admission makes him laugh and then he realizes that she looks a little embarrassed, so he makes his way around the car to stand by her side.

"Ever since then, I've just loved the Mustang."

"Billy never had a Mustang?"

"No."

"You know," he says quietly a moment later as he half-turns to face her. "If I'd known you then, I'd happily have let you take a spin in mine."

"Really?"

"You bet," he murmurs.

The smile she gives him makes everything else around him fade away and his heart thumps just a little harder against his chest.

"I was going to suggest we take this one for a ride," he says with a shrug, "because something tells me you know exactly how to hot-wire a car."

Her smug smile tells him everything he needs to know, so he quickly adds, "but since we're trying to keep a low-profile..."

"It's probably not a good idea, sir," she agrees.

"Oh no, it's a _great_ idea," he stresses. "But drawing attention to ourselves? Not so much."

Her laughter fills the air and for a moment, Jack thinks it's one of the most beautiful sounds he's ever heard. He thinks he's on the verge of saying something particularly stupid when –

 _"Jack! Sam!"_

They look up to see Daniel waving at them from the other side of the street and Jack throws a half-salute back to let him know they're coming. He glances at Carter and they share a small smile.

"Well, I can't give you a Mustang – or an Aston Martin," he says, "but your chariot awaits, my lady."

He gestures grandly towards Michael and Jenny's brightly-colored bus and the move elicits another laugh from his teammate.

"C'mon," he adds with a grin, as he places a hand on the small of her back. "We've got a mission to finish."

* * *

 **I've tried my best to keep any pop culture references as accurate as possible. I did a little research, but 1969 was 20 years before I was even born, so… apologies if anything is wrong.**


	109. Take Five

**Author's Note: Written for 'High Five Day' (18 April). Set post-series.**

 **I feel like I need to put a disclaimer here because no high fives actually appear in this fic. I'm just really, really obsessed with Jack's hands.**

* * *

It's the small, innocuous actions that surprise Sam the most and momentarily render her speechless.

There's the way he sits at the kitchen table with a newspaper early in the morning sunlight and chews on the temple tip of his glasses as he tries to complete the puzzle before he's needed at the Pentagon.

Or, there's the way he returns home from work as she's attempting to cook dinner and he silently steps up behind her, places a hand on the back of her neck and massages the area gently for a few seconds before he presses a kiss into her hair.

There's the way – and it's always when he's in his dress blues – he leans an elbow on the breakfast bar and the pads of his index and middle finger worry his lip, while his other hand falls by his side and he hooks his thumb into the pocket of his trousers making his jacket gather at his hip.

Or, there's the way when he wants to really get lost in her and take things slow. Like now. When he studies her with darkened eyes from across the room before he closes the distance. How he never, _ever_ breaks the stare as he reaches out and takes her hands in his, their fingers intertwining as he kisses her. The way she feels him guide her carefully backwards either to the wall or the bed and he keeps her there with his hips pressing teasingly against hers while he moves her arms up to rest on either side of her head. When he loosens his grip slightly so he can use the heel of his hands to pin her wrists in place as his fingers brush and stroke over her palms in seemingly random patterns, yet in tandem with his tongue in her mouth. When her fingers close over his, that's when he breaks the kiss and leans his forehead against hers for one, two, three seconds, before he pulls his fingers away and tucks a stray strand of her hair behind her ear. His fingertips drag along the back of her ear, behind her earlobe and down the curve behind her jaw before he takes her face in his hands and reverently murmurs, "I love you, Carter."

She thinks those last few actions are her favorites, but even though they're little gestures, they hold significant meaning.

And the emotions his actions evoke, threaten to overwhelm her every single day – and always without warning.

Because even though she loves him, they are further revelations as to just how much she loves everything about him.


	110. Freewheeling

**Author's Note: Written for 'Bicycle Day' (19 April). Teeny missing scene for 'Window of Opportunity'.**

* * *

Sam heard the commotion in the corridor and frowned. Situated between the shouts of "sir" and "look out", she definitely heard the booming laughter of Teal'c filter into her lab.

She quickly set down the results of the simulations she had run based on the colonel's report of a beam hitting the Stargate and had just reached the doorway when she caught sight of Teal'c going past her lab on a kick scooter.

She heard his polite, if rather amused, greeting of "Major Carter" right before he disappeared around the corner.

"Uh, ma'am?"

She turned to find a handful of airmen standing nearby, each with an identical look of confusion and concern etched onto their faces. "What was that?"

"I have no idea," she mumbled.

With a shake of her head, she stepped back into her lab. She briefly wondered if she should inform the colonel about what she saw when another disturbance could be heard in the corridor.

 _Ding._

Sam froze and slowly turned.

 _Ding. Ding._ _  
_  
She closed her eyes at the sound and sighed.

 _Ding. Ding. Ding. Ding. Ding._

She finally glanced in the direction Teal'c had just come and her eyes widened in surprise at the sight of her commanding officer on a bicycle. Not only that, but he was doing a wheelie.

 _"Sir!"_

"Carter," he yelled back as he quickly approached her position. "You gotta try this," he added as he brought the front wheel down to the floor and came to a smooth stop beside her. "Much more efficient than walking everywhere."

"Uh, sir," she started. "With all due respect –"

"Have you seen Teal'c?" he interrupted. "I lost him around Level 25."

"You lost him," she repeated slowly. "What –"

"We were racing," he explained, as if he knew exactly what she was about to ask. "But he cut me up on one of the corners and I haven't seen him since."

Despite the absurdity of the situation, Sam couldn't help but smile at the slightly petulant tone in the colonel's voice.

"Aren't you supposed to be helping Daniel with a translation of the ruins on P4X-639?"

"Nah," he grinned as he flicked the bicycle bell one more time. "I'm taking this loop off," he shrugged as he took off in the direction Teal'c disappeared.

Sam stared after him in bemusement, only for him to reappear a few moments later.

"Hey, Carter?"

"Yes, sir?"

"Meet me in the control room in an hour."

His words played over and over in her mind, but what really piqued her interest was the smug grin he'd thrown her before he cycled away and somehow, she just knew that whatever he had planned was going to be a very bad idea.


	111. For Better, Or Worse

**Author's Note: Apologies this update is late; I really struggled with this holiday (and I'm already struggling with today's holiday). My brain must be getting tired…**

 **This is set during season 7, shortly after 'Grace'. The holiday can be found at the end of the chapter. Thank you for your patience! Xx**

* * *

Sam flipped open the folder she'd been handed by Major Paul Davis a few moments earlier as she settled into her usual seat at the briefing room table, but as she let her eyes roam over the pages, she didn't actually take in any of the information.

It wasn't that she didn't want to be at the briefing; she just... didn't want to be at the briefing.

She had been spending some time with her brother and his family and, for once, she'd actually allowed herself to relax and enjoy a few days away from her work. The vacation had been going well – even after her brother had not-so-casually mentioned a friend of his he wanted her to meet – and Sam had been using the downtime to allow her to recover from the injuries she'd sustained aboard the Prometheus. Being away from her team has also given her a chance to try and figure out just what had or hadn't happened during the four days she'd been stranded. Or, more specifically, understand what her hallucinations had meant. If anything.

However, she'd only been three days into her week's leave when she received an urgent call from the SGC asking her to return to the base as soon as possible. Which would be fine, except she didn't feel like she was ready to return to work yet. She was tired, the headaches were still bad and she wasn't ready to face her team. To face _him_. She hadn't told them much about her time on the Prometheus and she knew they were concerned about her, but she couldn't find it in herself to share how she'd managed to save herself and everyone else on board.

"So, let me get this straight," came the colonel's sharp voice, pulling her from her thoughts. "You want us to go undercover?"

"Yes, sir," Major Davis nodded. He cast a quick glance at the general before he continued. "We believe they've an operative inside one of the high schools."

"And that's where you want us to go?"

At Daniel's question, she glanced at her teammates, frowned, and then looked back to the folder in her hands. She had obviously zoned out for longer than she'd realized and had no idea what was going on.

She retuned her focus back to the pages before her and as she started to read through them, her eyes widened. There seemed to be a reasonable amount of evidence to suggest that a lower-level Goa'uld was hiding out on Earth. In Denver, to be precise, where the residents of one town in particular had started to act oddly. Again, those being targeted were found to be similar to the profiles of those Seth had chosen all those years ago – young, fit, healthy – and the reminder of that mission and its outcome was suddenly too much for Sam. She didn't even realize her hands were shaking until she felt the colonel's fingers graze over her knee.

"Carter, you alright?"

She caught the concern and worry in his eyes, but she nodded anyway and when she felt his fingers tighten around her knee, she forced a smile and uttered a, "Yes, sir." He stared at her for a few more seconds, a flicker of understanding in his expression, just before he looked away. Sam went back to looking at the report, but the colonel's hand stayed in place.

"General," he said suddenly, "the last time we dealt with something like this, we killed the guy."

Sam felt her heart rate quicken at his words but before she could say or do anything to stop the memories, he continued, "We won't be expected to use the hand device again, will we?"

His words were shaped like a question, but his tone made it clear that he'd already made up his mind. _Even if the answer was yes, he would not make her use the technology._

"No, colonel," Hammond confirmed softly from the head of the table. "Your team will be on your own for this one."

The general's answer settled some of the nerves that had gathered in Sam's stomach and she released a breath she hadn't known she was holding.

"Thank you, sir," she whispered, but when she felt the colonel's fingers squeeze her leg before he broke the contact, she wasn't sure who exactly her thanks had been directed.

"So," Jack said, moments later, flicking through his own folder. "We're going undercover... as teachers?"

Davis nodded at Jack's look.

"Will it not appear most suspicious if the four of us appear in the vicinity at the same time?"

All eyes turned to Teal'c at his question and when Hammond and Davis shared an uneasy look, the team had a bad feeling about what they were about to say next.

The general took a deep breath and leaned his elbows on the table.

"The President has agreed to pull SG-1 from its duties here in order to infiltrate and neutralize the threat posed by this Goa'uld."

 _"Sir?"_

He glanced at Jack before his expression softened slightly. "I understand your concerns, but this is one mission that is going to take a while to complete."

"The current semester doesn't finish for another few weeks," Sam said with a slight frown as she tried to remember her niece's and nephew's schedule.

"That's correct," Hammond nodded. "That's why your orders are to go to Denver and get... settled in for a while."

"General –"

"So, when the new school year begins," he continued softly, ignoring the colonel's interruption, "no-one will think it strange that there's been a few new additions to the staff."

A heavy silence fell around the table as the team let the enormity of the mission settle in. They knew it was something they would do, that they had to do, but it was also a mission that would vary greatly from the ones they were so used to undertaking.

"So," the colonel sighed. "What's our new identities?"

"Everything will be given to you shortly," Davis answered, "but there is a summary in the back of the folder."

The sound of pages being turned broke the silence.

"Brad Pearson," she heard her commanding officer mutter to her right. "High school coach. No kids. Married –"

She turned her attention back to her own folder at the mention of the colonel's relationship status and tried not to focus on why that one little word bothered her so much. Her unease only intensified however when she read through her own notes.

 _Helen Pearson. Science teacher. No kids. Married._

 _Spouse: Brad Pearson._

She inhaled sharply at the discovery.

Not only was she going undercover with her team to try and catch a Goa'uld, but she was _technically_ going to be married to her commanding officer.

At any other time, Sam briefly thought she'd appreciate the opportunity to see a different side to the colonel and play happy families, but right now, after the events from the Prometheus and the already untenable hold she had on her emotions, she knew that this was one mission she didn't want to accept.

* * *

 **Written for 'Husband Appreciation Day' (20 April).**


	112. A Life Education

**Author's Note: Written for 'Kindergarten Day' (21 April). Set post-series.**

* * *

Jack shuffled nervously from one foot to the other. He could feel Sam's eyes on him, before they flicked to the set of closed, dark green double-doors a few feet away, and then back again. She repeated the action a number of times but he refused to meet her gaze.

A few more moments passed before he heard a soft sigh pass her lips, right before she moved closer and slipped her hand into his. Immediately, he entwined their fingers together and gave them a light squeeze.

"Everything will be fine, Jack," she murmured softly.

He nodded but didn't look at her. "I know," he said, matching her tone. "I just – I – I know," he repeated again, swallowing hard against the lump in his throat.

He felt Sam move a little closer again so her arm brushed against his and the contact helped ground him. He took a deep breath and glanced at her out of the corner of his eye. When she looked at him and smiled, he felt himself relax slightly – there was no judgment in her eyes, just understanding and love and possibly a few nerves of her own as well.

"I love you, Carter," he suddenly mumbled before he leaned over and kissed her.

"I love you too," she whispered as he pulled away.

Seconds later, a bell rang loudly and he felt Sam squeeze his hand in a silent gesture of support as the green doors opened slowly, right before dozens of children appeared, some running, others following at a more sedate pace.

Jack's eyes immediately fell onto the little girl running towards them and upon seeing the beaming smile on her face, he couldn't help but grin.

He had just enough time to let go of his wife's hand before the little girl launched herself into his arms, and Jack lifted her off the ground before spinning her around and planting a kiss on her cheek.

"Hey kiddo," he said. "How was your first day at kindergarten?"

As he carried their daughter back to the truck, Jack released a breath he didn't realize he'd been holding as he listened to Grace happily retell them about what she got up to and how she'd already made friends with those in her class. He placed another kiss into her hair before he looked over and as he shared a smile with Sam, he felt the rest of his nerves fall away because he knew his wife was right. Everything was going to be just fine.

* * *

 **I'm not sure why, but the idea of Jack being the one anxiously waiting to see how their daughter's first day at kindergarten went just seemed right.**


	113. Earth's Shadow

**Author's Note: Written for 'Earth Day' (22 April).**

* * *

 _It's beautiful._

 _Yes, it is._

Adrenaline. He's going to blame the adrenaline for his moment of stupidity back in the gliders. His only saving grace, he thinks, is the fact that Captain Carter was too busy looking at Earth to notice that when he answered her statement, he was actually looking at _her_.

Not that seeing Earth in all its majesty wasn't a sight to behold, it's just that in that moment, Jack O'Neill would have wagered everything he had and defied anyone to find something more beautiful than Samantha Carter. Her eyes wide and bright and full of awe, the smile that shaped her lips, the slight intake of breath he heard over the intercom as reality started to sink in and she realized that their planet was still there, still breathing, still present, because of them.

He knew the captain was attractive – he'd noticed the moment he'd laid eyes on her almost a year ago – but as he observed her from the glider, he was utterly captivated. And it shook him, because the strength of that feeling was something he didn't expect.

When they finally made it back on solid ground, he couldn't shake the tug of affection towards her. He even opted for a cold shower to try and wash away the emotion but to no real avail, because by the time they returned to the SGC, been congratulated by Hammond and reunited with Daniel, Jack had done the unthinkable.

With everyone happy and celebrating Earth's survival, he allowed himself to get caught up in the moment and with the adrenaline still coursing through his veins – because it _was_ adrenaline, he tells himself – it felt completely natural that after he gave Daniel a hug and slapped Teal'c on the shoulder, that he pulled Carter to him for a hug.

Except he also wasn't prepared for her body against his to feel so nice and soft and _perfect_. He held on to her for a few seconds before he let her go, but his hand continued to find its way to her shoulder.

That had been an hour ago and while half of the base is now getting ready to head to O'Malley's to celebrate further, Jack is apprehensive. He knows he needs to be there with his team but he's still feeling on edge. There's a buzz he can't shake and an itch just under his skin that he needs to scratch.

The image of Carter in the glider pops uninvited into his head again and he groans, because with startling clarity, he's beginning to realize that he is in so much trouble.

He can try and convince himself that it was just the adrenaline that made him act the way he did and feel those particular emotions, but he's been in enough situations to know that this is different.

He isn't quite sure just what this is, nor is he convinced he wants to find out, but he's absolutely adamant that he is not starting to see Samantha as anything other than a friend and teammate.

He huffs out a laugh before he lies back on bed in his guest quarters and runs a hand over his face.

"I am so screwed," he mutters.


	114. A Novel Idea

**Author's Note: Written for 'World Book Night' (23 April). Set post-series.**

* * *

Jack's head snapped up and he quickly looked around to make sure he was alone. The last thing he needed was to get caught and add to his troubles.

It wasn't his fault that his wife was just so enticing, but apparently trying to distract Samantha Carter from a very important presentation she was due to give at the USAF Academy was not one of his better ideas.

 _"Is this your way of trying to help?" Sam had asked as she continued to type notes on her laptop while he dotted a line of kisses along her shoulder._

 _"Helping. Distracting. Making things more memorable. Take your pick," he mumbled against her skin._

 _Slowly, she set the computer on the coffee table and turned to face him. She smiled teasingly, but before Jack knew what had happened, something hard hit his chest and he looked down to find Sam had pressed a large, heavy hardbacked book into his hands._

 _"What –"_

 _"You want to help me," she quipped as she lifted the laptop and resumed typing, "then get reading."_

 _Slowly, Jack cast his gaze downwards and pulled a face._ _Differential Manifolds And Theoretical Astrophysics: An Introduction._ _"Oh, for cryin' out loud," he'd grumbled._

Jack adjusted the pillow behind his head and sighed. To give himself credit, he'd managed twenty minutes with the book before complete and utter boredom had set in. Although, if he was honest, he'd spent around two of those minutes trying to pronounce most of the words in the opening sentence, while the other eighteen had been spent looking at the pictures.

He'd then decided to take a breather when he caught sight of another item poking out from underneath the coffee table. Moving closer, Jack pulled it out and let out a low whistle. He'd glanced towards Sam but she had been engrossed in her work, so he'd quickly stashed it inside the physics books and got to his feet. It was then, when he'd told Sam he was going to take his reading to bed, she had smiled and said she'd be there shortly.

That had been almost an hour ago; not that Jack really minded. He _did_ have reading to do after all.

The only problem was, however, that he had also managed to become so engrossed in his reading that he didn't hear his wife approaching their bedroom.

"Jack? What are you doing?" she asked from where she stood at in the doorway.

"Uh… reading?" he answered, hoping she hadn't seen him jump at her voice.

She narrowed her eyes and her attention fell to the book in his hands. It was still her book he was holding, but he caught the flash of suspicion in her eyes and he knew his luck was about to run out. He smiled, but it came out more like a grimace, and Sam walked slowly into the room.

His eyes traced her movements as she made her away around to her side of the bed, and Jack tried to subtly angle the book away so she couldn't see what he was doing. He then made a show of turning a few pages ahead, but Sam's hand shot out to keep the book where it was, before she shuffled closer and curled against his side, her head resting on his shoulder. It was hard, but Jack fought against every instinct he had to reach over and put his arm around her.

And then he felt her lips as she placed featherlight kisses along his neck and jawline.

"Oh, God," he groaned. "Sam – do you – have to do that – right – now?" he stuttered, as he tried not to concentrate on his body's reaction to the touches.

He tried to move the book further away from Sam, but she shrugged oh-so-casually against him seconds before she nestled even closer. Jack swallowed hard.

 _He was a dead man._

He wanted nothing more than to reach out to his wife, but he _really_ couldn't put the book down.

Sadly, the internal argument Jack was having with himself was his downfall, because without warning, Sam snatched the book from his hands, then rolled off the bed and out of reach.

Jack held his breath and waited. When Sam's eyes flew to his, he winced.

 _He so wasn't going to get any this evening._

"I knew it!"

He frowned. "Huh?"

 _"This,"_ Sam said, holding up her book. "I knew you couldn't have been reading it all this time."

"Hey! I was reading!"

"Really?"

"Yeah. It's a book!"

"It's not the book I gave you though, is it?"

"It looks the same," he said with a non-committal shrug as he studied the item in her hands.

Sam bit back a sigh, before she opened her physics book. Her eyes never leaving Jack's, she lifted up the thin comic book that had been resting at the supposed page he had been 'reading'.

"Okay," she replied smugly. "So, tell me. When – exactly – did The Simpsons become a vital part of differential manifolds and theoretical astrophysics?"

"D'oh!"


	115. Office Rules

**Author's Note: Written for 'Administrative Professionals Day' (24 April). Tiny missing scene for season 10 'Line In The Sand'.**

* * *

Jack tried to stifle his yawn as General Vidrine launched into yet another speech from his spot at the head of the table. He kind of liked the guy; he wouldn't necessarily be someone he'd spend much time with outside of work, but Vidrine _was_ one of the more sympathetic ones towards the Stargate Program, so Jack had to give him that as a point in his favor. However, he was an absolute nightmare when it came to meetings.

The guy just did not know when to stop talking.

Much like most of the Air Force personnel and politicians Jack had to work with these days.

He sighed and out of the corner of his eye caught Major Davis glance at him. With a half shrug as an apology, Jack ran a hand over his face before he picked up his pen and started to dismantle it. It was safer for everyone if he had something to distract him.

It wasn't anyone's fault – well, it kind of was – but Jack just felt even more frustrated than usual. He was waiting to hear from Landry about SG-1's mission to P9C-882.

When Sam had called him, he'd listened to her concerns over her orders and he had shared in her worries because while Landry and the IOA didn't know Sam, he did, and if she said the device wasn't ready for such a large-scale test, then there was no doubt in Jack's mind that it wasn't ready. He'd even offered to pull a few strings to get the mission delayed, but Sam had point-blank refused. A part of him understood why she said no, but he didn't want anyone put in harm's way for the sake of buying the team a little more time either.

He hadn't said to anyone, especially not Sam, but he had a bad feeling about the whole situation.

He had just started to reassemble his pen when the sound of raised voices could be heard from outside the door. Moments later, the door clicked open and an aide entered the room. He went straight to Jack's side.

"I'm sorry to interrupt General, but your secretary insisted on speaking with you."

The hairs on the back of Jack's neck stood on end and he shot straight to his feet. He knew Delores wouldn't interrupt any meeting unless it was important. He was halfway out of the room before he turned back and called 'emergency' over his shoulder. Not waiting to see or hear the responses of the others in the room, he strode into the hallway. He froze at the look on Delores' face.

"What's happened?"

"General Landry just called, sir," she said. "It's your wife."

"Clear my schedule," he ordered as he started to move by her, only for the elderly lady to press a small, but firm hand on his arm.

"It's already been arranged, General," she answered softly. "They're awaiting your arrival."

He nodded slowly, suddenly at a loss for words. His chest tightened as he tried to breathe, but the more he tried, the more he felt fear grip his heart.

A light pressure on his arm brought him back to the moment and he looked down to see his secretary still holding onto him.

 _"Go,"_ she urged, pushing him towards his office.

"Thank you, Delores," he croaked. "I don't –"

"Don't thank me yet," she interrupted knowingly. "When Samantha makes it through this, you can _both_ come and thank me."

With a final nod, Jack headed for his office and sent up a prayer that Delores was right.

Sam _would_ make it.

He couldn't lose her, not now.


	116. Flesh And Blood

**Author's Note: Written for 'Take Our Daughters And Sons To Work Day' (25 April).**

 **Set in an alternate reality. A super random alternate reality.**

 **I know the holiday suggests it should be fun, but anything** **I tried to write today has just been filled with angst. So, I feel like a warning should be inserted here. This isn't my usual style – both from the (part) POV of an "original character" and the heavy,** _ **heavy**_ **angst. I did ask on Twitter if I should go ahead with posting this and it was a resounding yes, so... all I can say is I'm sorry.**

* * *

"Charlie! Grace! Will you please come and set the table?"

Jack turned and headed back into the kitchen, his hand brushing against the small of Sam's back as she moved by him, a bowl of salad in one hand and a small basket of bread in the other.

"You don't need to yell," came the voice of his daughter as she appeared in the doorway.

"I thought that was the only tone teenagers answered to these days."

"Ha _ha_ ," she said with a roll of the eyes.

Jack smirked and watched her for a few seconds before he glanced over at his wife who was trying hard to hide a smile of her own.

"Where's your brother?"

"Right here."

"Can you put the GameBoy away, please," Sam asked him, before she frowned. "And are you not supposed to be doing your homework?"

"Already done," he quipped.

When Sam raised a brow in disbelief, he lifted three fingers into the air and grinned. "Scout's Honor."

"Oh, you are so like your father," she laughed.

"Grub's up," Jack cut in as he lifted the lasagne from the oven and placed it onto the table, but not before he nudged Sam's shoulder with his. "I heard that," he mumbled.

As the family settled down to eat, Jack couldn't help but notice the way his daughter's gaze flicked between him and Sam.

"Everything okay, Grace?" he asked casually as he reached for the salad.

"Yeah," she nodded quickly, almost too quickly for Jack's liking and his brow furrowed slightly in concern. "It's been a while since we've had a family dinner together, that's all," she hedged.

Jack glanced at Sam and they shared a heavy look. "I know," Sam sighed, "and we're sorry. I know we promised – things at work –"

"Aren't going well?"

"Hey," Jack said quietly but firmly. "We're having dinner, together, _as a family._ That means there's to be no talk about work. You know we're not allowed to discuss our jobs anyway," he added as an afterthought, pointing the tip of his fork in his daughter's direction.

She smiled softly at his words, but her amusement quickly faded. "I know you can't tell us anything, but –"

"Leave it alone, sis."

"But Charlie –"

"Just drop it."

"You agreed that –"

"Shut up."

"Why don't you –"

 _"Hey!"_

Both teenagers turned to Jack at his barked order. "What's going on?"

While Charlie suddenly decided to glower at the table, Grace glowered at him before she sighed.

"We're worried about you," she admitted quietly. "You've been... different lately."

Jack and Sam shared another look and she pointed accusingly. " _That_. Right there. It's those looks – something's going on," she said. "We know your job can be dangerous, because it _is_ the Air Force, but –"

"You don't need to worry about anything," Jack interrupted softly. "Work... it's just been busy."

His answer didn't seem to satisfy her however, and they ate in silence for a few moments before there was a knock at the door.

"I'll get it," Grace said, getting to her feet before anyone could object.

She made her way into the hallway and couldn't hide her surprise when she opened the door and came face to face with Major Paul Davis.

"Major," she exclaimed.

"Grace," he nodded in greeting as he stepped inside and removed his hat before tucking it under his arm. "Are your parents –"

"Grace? Who's at the –"

Jack stopped abruptly and his demeanor changed in an instant.

"I'm sorry to interrupt, General," he said solemnly as he took a step closer, "but they're here."

Jack swallowed hard at the information.

"Grace," he said as he placed a hand on her shoulder, while Sam appeared by his side. "Get Charlie and go and wait in my truck."

"Why? What's happened?"

 _"Grace,"_ he said sharply, then sighed, immediately regretting his tone. "Please, just do what I tell you and I'll explain everything on the way."

"Where are we going?"

"You're about to find out what your mom and I do at work."

* * *

Grace didn't know whether to laugh or cry as she stood staring in awe at the Stargate, her gaze transfixed on the way the inner ring spun smoothly, the sound of metal against metal and the clunking sound as the chevrons locked into place. For years, she'd wanted to know what her parents did under Cheyenne Mountain but never in her wildest dreams did she expect to hear stories about a Stargate or aliens or interplanetary travel or the Goa'uld. A part of her wanted to know more – wanted to know everything – but it was too late. Despite Earth's best efforts, Anubis had arrived and was systematically destroying the planet. Their only choice now was to send those they could through the gate to somewhere her parents had called the Alpha Site.

Without warning, the seventh chevron locked into place and the Stargate activated. As the event horizon surged forward, Grace jumped back and quickly felt her dad's hands on her shoulders. She studied the rippling blue surface and marveled at its beauty, so far under the ground. A stark contrast to the horror that was present just above the surface and a shiver ran down her back.

Jack's grip tightened as those around them started to move towards the gate and Grace watched as one by one they disappeared into the puddle. She wasn't sure how long she stood frozen in place until she felt herself being turned around and she looked up to see her dad studying her intensely.

"Colonel Reynolds knows you're coming," he said. "He'll look after you both."

Grace frowned. "You're not going?"

A flicker of sadness and guilt in his eyes before it disappeared. "My job is to stay here –"

"Then I'm staying as well."

"No, you're not," he said softly. "It's too dangerous."

"But you and mom –"

"– are going to fight back," he insisted. "If we can, we'll follow in the next wave to the Alpha Site, but for now you and Charlie are the priority. We need to keep you both safe."

A choked sob suddenly escaped her. "Dad –"

"I know."

"I'm scared."

He pulled her towards him and wrapped his arms around her tightly. "Me too," he whispered. "Me too."

She felt him press a kiss into her hair before he leaned back just enough so he could look her in the eye.

"I love you so much, Gracie," he murmured. He let her go just as Sam pulled her into a hug, while Jack embraced Charlie. "It's time."

As Grace and Charlie made their way up the ramp and towards the gate, Jack took Sam's hand in his. She was shaking beside him and he squeezed her hand, only to realize that he was shaking too.

At the top of the ramp, Grace stopped and released a shaky breath, right before she felt Charlie's hand slip into her hers. She met his eye and he nodded.

"Together?"

She nodded in return, unable to speak past the lump in her throat, and turned back to see her parents watching them both.

With a final nod, they told them to go, and as Grace stepped into the event horizon, she tried not to notice the tears in her parents' eyes and the way her heart told her that nothing was ever going to be the same again.

* * *

 **When I wrote this I made myself cry.** **Please don't hate me.**


	117. Shaken

**Author's Notes: Written for 'Richter Scale Day' (26 April).**

 **Aside from a mention to the gate shaking in this chapter, I'm not quite sure how it fits with the holiday… apologies. Oh, and it's another alternate reality outing, early season 1.**

* * *

When Samantha finally meets the elusive and mysterious General O'Neill, it doesn't go well, but she refuses to take any of the blame.

She arrives at the mountain at 0745 and drops by her lab to find a yellow Post-it note on her desk. The handwriting is that of George Hammond's and she smiles – she has yet to see her godfather, but it's another familiar face as she settles into her new role. Her smile soon fades however when she reads that she's been summoned to General O'Neill's office for later that morning. She sighs heavily and thinks about just going to get it over with when Catherine appears, reads the note, smiles, and tells her not to worry, that it's just "standard procedure". A snort escapes Sam and they agree that it's probably as standard a procedure as they're going to see over the next few months.

Yet, it's another two hours before she _actually_ plucks up the courage to go and see the general. As she nears the office she hears the unmistakable Texan drawl of George and another man's voice that she doesn't recognize but guesses it belongs to that of SGA's commander. His voice is raised, which doesn't surprise her as much as it maybe should, but despite not joining the Air Force herself, she's still a military brat and knows all too well the attitude that can go with the job. What _does_ surprise her, however, are the placating tones of George as he tells his companion that he "really will like her once he gets to know her".

"Oh, I'm sure I adore her already, George," is his sarcastic response and Sam doesn't need to see who it is in order to hear the roll of eyes which accompanies the statement.

She bristles slightly and wonders if it's her they're talking about, but she brushes down on her indignation because of George. Despite Sam's distaste of the military, George isn't the stereotypical officer and she has always had a lot of time and respect for him. She doesn't want to cause any trouble.

"She's a geek."

"She is a genius, Jack."

"I know that, otherwise she wouldn't be here. Doesn't change matters though."

There's a heavy silence as she edges towards the office and she appears in the doorway just as the mystery man folds his arms across his chest and stares at her godfather.

"Carter's a scientist. I don't like scientists. Can't trust 'em not to do something stupid."

"I'm actually the world's foremost expert on the Stargate," she blurts out before she can stop herself and folds her arms across her chest in defiance, just as the general's arms drop to his sides and his eyes snap to hers.

"Who –"

George quickly cuts through the tension and makes the introductions before he leaves the office, closing the door behind him with a look that neither of them sees.

"So, Miss Carter –"

"It is appropriate to refer to a person by their rank, not their salutation. You should call me _Doctor_ , not _Miss_."

This time she does hear his eyes roll into the back of his head and she stands straighter when he says, "Then you should call me _Brigadier General_."

It's dripping with sarcasm but there's no anger in his words. He seems tired, and frustrated and like he doesn't fully trust her, but that's okay because she doesn't fully trust him either. He studies her intently and she tries not to flinch but she feels a tingle along the base of her spine.

But that's about as far as her thoughts go before the general makes another disparaging comment about scientists and then follows it up with an even more sexist comment about how he "likes women" and Sam decides that she has more important things to do. She doesn't linger on how she dismisses the general by storming out of his office, or how the word 'asshole' now fills the space, and she definitely doesn't see the hint of a smirk playing around the corner of his lips.

* * *

He finally seeks her out an hour later.

"What's up, Doc?"

He doesn't even try to hide his smirk, so Sam doesn't try to hide how funny she doesn't find his popular culture reference. She closes the lid of her laptop as the general turns serious and thrusts his hands into his pockets.

"So, you're the one who got the 'gate up and running?"

There's no hint of mockery or distaste in his words, so she acquiesces. "Yes, General. I am."

She says it proudly, because she is, but it isn't boastful and even if the general thought it was, he doesn't let it show.

"Think you can do anything about the shaking?"

She frowns at the question and he pulls a hand from his pocket, waving it around as if it explains everything. "The gate. Every time it activates, it feels like I should be awaiting a call from NEIC."

She huffs out a laugh and it seems to not only break the tension between them, but act as an apology – both offered and accepted. Suddenly his hand is thrust towards her and she accepts it without thinking.

"General O'Neill."

"Doctor Carter."

"I guess we got off on the wrong foot."

"I'm sorry, General, it's just –"

He waves her off and she stops.

"In case you haven't picked up on it by now, people skills aren't really my thing."

They aren't Sam's either.

"With everything that's going on under this mountain... Sometimes it's easy to forget that not everyone here is military. Or a man."

Sam nods, touched by his need to offer her an explanation. She has a feeling they don't come from him often. She also thinks he maybe feels like what he's said is enough because they fall into a silence that is neither comfortable nor uncomfortable, but it leaves her wanting more.

"Well, I'm sure you have a lot of work to get on with, Doctor Carter, so I'll leave you to it."

He gives her a half smile, then hesitates as if he wants to say something else. It's not long before she's proven right. "I guess I'll see you around."

It sounds almost like a question, rather than a statement, almost like he _wants_ to see her again and Sam decides that it maybe wouldn't be the worst thing in the world if he did.

She nods. "I'll see what I can do."

When he gives her a strange look, a smirk graces her lips. "About the shaking."

"Oh. _Oh!_ Right, yes. The shaking."

This time, she doesn't miss the smirk on his face as he leaves her lab. "Welcome to the SGA, Doc."


	118. Bookworm

**Author's Note: Written for 'Independent Bookstore Day' (27 April). Alternate reality. _Again._**

* * *

"OK," Jack said as he followed Daniel into the bookstore. "We have an hour, and then we've to be back at the base."

Daniel rolled his eyes and sighed. "Yes, Jack."

"I mean it. You'll end up finding one of your history books, get distracted and forget that time exists. So, _one hour_ ," he emphasized.

"Fine."

As Daniel walked away, Jack took the time to glance around the bookstore and couldn't quite hide his surprise. For what looked like a small store on the outside, it was incredibly spacious inside. The shelves were made of old oak and filled with more books than he'd ever seen before; while in the far corner a selection of leather couches and armchairs were situated into some kind of reading den. The smell of furniture polish and coffee filled his nostrils and he sighed contentedly. There was a warmth to the store and Jack started to appreciate why Daniel was so fond of the place rather than one of the larger chains. The thought made him pause for a moment however and he went to ask Daniel only to catch sight of the archaeologist disappearing down one of the aisles.

"One hour, Danny," he mumbled to himself as he followed.

Sure enough, his teammate was already nose-deep in a book, and he shook his head in amusement.

"Tell me this," he said. "All of your... fancy books," he shrugged for want of a better description, "how does a place like this always have the one you need? It's not like your reading material tops the bestseller's list."

"Oh, I know the owner," he replied distractedly. "She orders them in for me."

Jack's interest piqued at his answer, but before he could ask any further questions, another voice broke the silence.

"Daniel!"

Daniel's head snapped up and he looked to a point just over Jack's shoulder, and smiled.

"Sam."

Jack looked over his shoulder and was pleasantly surprised to find a young, and very beautiful, blonde standing watching them both.

"It's good to see you again," she smiled as Daniel went to her and wrapped her up in a hug.

"You too."

The sound of someone clearing their throat suddenly interrupted the moment and Jack was surprised to discover that it was actually him.

"Oh, sorry," Daniel said. "Sam, this is Jack. Jack, this is Sam."

With a grin, he reached forward to shake Sam's hand and found himself mesmerized by her eyes and her smile – and pretty much everything about her. He reluctantly let go of her hand and at a loss of what else to do, he said, "Daniel and I work together."

"Oh."

Her expression cleared slightly as she regarded him with a curious look before she turned back to Daniel.

"The book you ordered has arrived," she said as she placed a selection of books onto the end of the shelf. "I've left it behind the counter for you."

When Daniel thanked her, then returned his attention back to the book in her hands, she smirked and let her gaze rest on Jack. "Let me know if there's anything else I can help you with."

With that, she turned and disappeared down the store. Jack left it a few seconds before he rocked back on his heels and then moved to the end of the aisle. He looked in the direction Sam had just gone and watched her for a few seconds as she spoke with another customer. Then, without warning, she met his gaze and smiled before she broke the stare.

He pursed his lips as he thought over his next move. He didn't know what it was, but he just felt this _pull_ towards her. Like she could be the good kind of bad trouble for him. Coming to a decision, he turned back to Daniel and plucked a random book from the shelf. Pretending to read the blurb on the back cover, he tried to go for casual.

"Daniel?"

"Yeah?"

"How well do you know Sam?"

* * *

 **So, the selection for this date was horrendous, I'm sorry. I'm also in the middle of a convention weekend and haven't had a lot of time to write, and while the weather has left a** _ **lot**_ **to be desired, I did get to meet Amanda Tapping and Richard Dean Anderson!**


	119. Be My Little Baby

**Author's Note: Written for 'Biological Clock Day' (28 April).**

* * *

Sam looks down at her hands and then at Jack, concern etched on her face.

"What if I can't do this? What if –"

"Hey," he cuts in softly, kneeling by her side before he cups her face in his hands. "Carter, look at me."

When she finally follows his order, he adds, "Anything you put your mind to, you achieve. You're… _amazing_ , Sam. This will be no different. Trust me."

"I do trust you," she whispers. "I'm just scared."

"So am I," he admits. "But we'll face this together, I promise. OK?"

"Okay," she nods, then takes a deep breath. "We're having a baby, Jack."

He smiles slowly. "I know."


	120. Unfastened

**Author's Note: Written for 'Zipper Day' (29 April). Set post-series.**

* * *

"Jack!"

"Yeah?"

Sam jumped and turned to see her husband leaning casually against the door jamb, a smile playing about his lips as he watched her every move.

"How long have you been standing there?"

"Long enough to hear you were humming."

A blush appeared on her face but she couldn't hide her smile.

"I'm happy," she shrugged as she reached down to grab a pair of heeled shoes. "More than happy," she amended as she sat on the edge of the bed and slipped her feet into the shoes.

Jack's grin widened at her admission and he moved further into their bedroom.

"So," he said. "What'd you call me for?"

Sam got to her feet and frowned, before her expression cleared. "Oh! I need help with the zipper on this dress."

Immediately, she caught the expression on his face and she rolled her eyes. "I think it's caught in the fabric," she explained. "I need the dress _fastened_."

Waving away her pointed look, Jack gestured for her to turn around and he swallowed hard at the expanse of pale skin he was met with. He allowed his fingers to brush against Sam's back before he made his way to the zipper. It had caught but as his fingers slipped underneath the material so he could get a better grip, he felt rather than heard Sam inhale sharply. He grinned but didn't say anything, instead he leaned closer and concentrated on the task at hand. It took him a few minutes before he was able to free the zipper.

"The _other_ way, Jack," she laughed.

"Spoilsport," he muttered.

"I'm not the one who booked us a table for dinner," she answered over her shoulder.

"Hm, about that," he said casually as he let one of his hands settle on her hip, while the other hand moved to the small of her back, his fingers tracing a route along the length of her spine.

"What do you say we cancel those plans and do… something else instead?"

He placed a kiss behind her ear and she leaned back into his arms. "What did you have in mind?"

"I think you know exactly what I have in mind," he murmured as he started to tug the zipper lower.

* * *

 **I am so sorry this is late. Today's entry will be on time, I promise!**

 **Also, for those asking, I will do a write-up of WCC and the duo panel of AT and RDA from the weekend – there's also an official video of the panel which is due to go live later today, I believe. In the meantime, for those wanting to see my duo pic, it's on my Twitter account. The link can be found in my profile.**

 **If you decide to follow me, hello! I don't tweet often but when I do it's generally stupid stuff. You've been warned! :)**


	121. Intellectual Honesty

**Author's Note: Written for 'Honesty Day' (30 April).**

* * *

Despite his chequered history, Jack O'Neill always prided himself on his honesty.

So, as he listened to the inner battle his brain was having with his body, he shook his head and decided just to be honest with himself.

It was _not_ a crush.

A crush was something he had on Sally Jameson when they had been in fifth grade and he wanted her to be his girlfriend. So, he'd written a note, crumpled it into a ball and thrown it on her desk when the teacher wasn't looking.

So, no. He absolutely _refused_ to define whatever he was feeling towards Captain Carter as a crush – despite the fact that he wanted nothing more than to scribble a date and time on his notepad arranging for an arm wrestle and slip it to her across the briefing room table.

No. Definitely _not_ a crush.

He snorted at the thought as he let his attention linger on the woman sitting opposite.

He was such a liar.

* * *

 **I've just realized that this is the final entry for April. Woo!**

 **Again, thank you to every single one of you reading this series, leaving reviews, being such an encouragement, sending me messages and story requests… everything. It means so much. Thank you!**


	122. Make A House A Home

**Author's Note: Written for 'Home Owners Day' (1 May).**

* * *

Jack lifted a beer from the refrigerator and sighed. There were boxes strewn all over the kitchen. He hated packing – or unpacking – depending on how you looked at it, but he was willing to make an exception in this case because while he was preparing to put some of his own items into storage, he was filling up those empty spaces with Sam's possessions.

He smirked. He hadn't exactly lied when he'd told Landry he was in Colorado Springs to sign the papers for all his stuff, he just hadn't quite told him the truth either. He was signing papers, but he technically hadn't sold anything, he was just adding a name onto the forms.

He didn't know when he'd be back in the Springs again, and while Sam was also currently stationed out in Nevada, out of the two of them, she would be more likely to be recalled back to the SGC – and therefore need somewhere to stay when that was the case. So, he'd decided to put his wife's name on the paperwork.

Casting another quick glance around the kitchen, Jack smiled to himself as he remembered the first team night he'd hosted at his house and how the-then Captain Carter had been nervous, calling him 'sir' and 'colonel' all night until he'd finally ordered her to stop. It didn't really make a difference, but she'd tried to cut back on the salutations.

He made his way out of the kitchen into the hall and thought back to an afternoon last year when Sam had decided to pay him a visit. It was just after he had the Ancient repository downloaded into his brain for a second him. He still didn't recall much from that whole incident, but he does remember how beautiful his major had looked that day.

Turning on his heel, he headed into the living room and was hit with the memory of the first time he held her in his house as she cried over the loss of Daniel during their first year as SG-1. A few years later, he held her again when Daniel left them for the second time.

He slid the glass door open and stepped onto the deck outside, his eyes scanning the back yard. It was just weeks ago when Sam had appeared unannounced to talk but when it seemed like they were finally about to have _that_ discussion, Kerry had interrupted and the final strands that linked him to Sam had been shattered.

He pulled himself from those thoughts and shook his head, because it didn't matter now. Things had worked out and he and Sam were now together.

He drained off his beer and went back inside the house and towards his bedroom. A grin quickly shaped his lips at the memories they'd already made in the room. He made his way to the platform where his telescope was still secured. He remembered the first time they sat side by side watching the stars, only he ended up watching _her_ instead and he quickly realized just how lucky he was to be working with her and to have her in his life.

It was why he didn't want to sell the house.

There were too many memories made and in one way or another, they all involved Sam. She may not have lived in the house during that time, but over the past eight years she'd helped make it a home for him. _For them._


	123. The Password Is Fishing

**Author's Note: Written for 'Password Day' (2 May).**

 **Episode tag for season 10 'Line In The Sand'.**

* * *

He knew it was bad the instant he received a call from Hank telling him to get his ass back to the SGC, but he hadn't been prepared for the sight of seeing Sam in that infirmary bed, surrounded by machines and wires and a continuous stream of medical personnel.

However, if he thought that was bad, nothing prepared him for the moment Sam regained consciousness and immediately lapsed into a state of blind panic.

Dr Lam had ordered the room to be cleared except for Jack as he tried to calm her down and convince her that she was back at the SGC, home and safe. But amidst her confusion and the pain meds and fear, Sam kept talking, only Jack couldn't make out what she tried to say. If he was honest though, he didn't care. He knew she had to be in severe pain and he just wanted her to be okay.

When she grappled frantically for the collar on his jacket and pulled him to her, he carefully slipped his arms around her and held her close, whispering random words in her ear until her panic lessened.

It felt like an eternity before Sam pulled back, and Jack used the pads of his thumbs to wipe the tears from her face. They met each other's gaze and a moment passed before she pressed her lips against his and kissed him hard, desperate, and it took Jack a second to realize that even though Lam stood by the door to try and give them as much privacy as she could, they were still at the SGC and there were cameras around so he cupped Sam's her face with his hands, took his time and slowed the kiss.

When he finally broke the kiss, Sam sagged against him and he signalled for Lam. He felt her approach and glanced down just in time to see her give his wife a sedative.

"Jack?"

"Yeah," he murmured.

"You're here?"

He ducked his chin to look at Sam and caught her confused expression.

"Yeah, I'm here Sam."

"I need a new password," she whispered sleepily. "Cam knows."

Jack froze at the admission, because he now knew how close it really was for Sam to feel like she needed to divulge that information. He knew what the password was for, what it protected, but he wasn't ready to deal with the fact. He swallowed hard and ran the back of his fingers along her forehead. The touch grounded him, reminded him that she had made it and was still here.

"It's alright, Carter," he soothed as he dropped a kiss into her hair and helped her lie back down as sleep reclaimed her. "It's alright."


	124. Sheltered Comfort

**Author's Note: Written for 'Lumpy Rug Day' (3 May). Episode tag for season 5 'Meridian'.**

 **Marcy – the previous chapter refers to the scene in season 10's 'Line In The Sand', when Sam reveals to Mitchell that her password is "fishing". Hope this clears up the confusion. :)**

* * *

He found her in the living room of her house, sitting on an old rug on the floor, her back resting against the small couch.

The room was in darkness, save for the dozens of candles that were placed around any available surface, their flames creating just enough light for him to make out her profile.

He wasn't sure if she knew he was there, so he slowly made his way into the room and sat down beside her. When she made no move, just continued to cry, he put an arm around her shoulders and pulled her close.

"Ssh, Carter. It's alright," he croaked as if he could read her thoughts. "I know."

With that, she collapsed against his chest and he quickly felt his t-shirt grow damp from her tears. He wasn't sure how long he held her for, but one by one, the candles slowly started to burn out until only one remained in the center of the coffee table.

As Sam's breathing slowly evened out, Jack grimaced. He tried to get more comfortable but he didn't loosen his grip, nor did Sam make any attempt to move away.

"Carter," he said quietly. "I can't feel my… lower extremities."

She turned her face against his chest and snorted, but she still made no effort to move.

"I miss him," she whispered instead.

"Me too," he sighed.

"I love him."

"I know."

He did know. He knew Sam was talking about the love she had for her best friend, her brother, her teammate.

"C'mere," he mumbled a moment later as he pressed a kiss to her temple.

Daniel's death would leave a massive void in their lives and it was one Jack wasn't sure how – or even if – it could be filled. As Sam continued to lean against him, he felt his own eyes drift closed when a light breeze ruffled his hair. He sat up straighter and glanced around, only to remember the room was in darkness and he couldn't see anything. But he did think he'd heard Daniel's voice.

"Did you hear that?"

He turned and could just make out the confused expression on Sam's face. "I thought I heard –"

"Yeah," Jack answered. "Me too."

They both fell silent as they both let the words they had just heard play over in their minds.

 _To live in hearts we leave behind, is not to die._

A second later, the flame on the final candle extinguished and plunged the room into complete darkness.

A sad smile graced Jack's lips. He knew his friend would be watching over them and he knew his words were true.

Daniel would live on.

His legacy would live on. Of that, Jack would make sure.

He swallowed hard against the lump in his throat and pressed another kiss to Sam's temple.

"We're gonna be okay, Carter," he whispered.


	125. Hold My Hand

**Author's Note: Written for 'Join Hands Day' (4 May).**

 **Little introspective piece for season 2's 'Message In A Bottle'.**

* * *

He felt hot. _Too hot._ He thought he heard Janet say he was running a fever but he honestly wasn't sure.

He had tried to follow the conversation, he really had, but he just wanted to close his eyes and sleep. Whatever was happening to him, whatever had attacked him, it hurt and he could feel his body and mind changing. Like there was a battle for dominance going on beneath the surface that he knew he needed to fight but he just didn't have the energy to do so. He didn't even have the ability to speak, to ask his team for help, and it scared him. The only thread that kept him hanging on and not giving in to the darkness was _her_.

Every so often he would hear Sam's voice break through the fog that had permanently set up home in his head and it was always just enough to bring him back.

But it was getting harder and harder to claw his way back into consciousness every time. He didn't know how much longer he would be able to hang on, but then without warning, he felt a light weight press down on his hand.

"Sir? Sir, I don't know if what we are about to try is a good idea or not, but you have the right to know. You might not survive it."

He heard her talking, but couldn't quite make out the words. Her voice was soft, comforting, however, and he thought she was giving him a choice, but he was too tired and sore to think it through properly so he just trusted her.

It took all of his strength, but he ran his thumb along the back of her fingers and squeezed her hand.

As quickly as the weight appeared, it was gone and he felt the medication that had been pumped into him stop suddenly.

He wanted to panic, to tell her to stop and put the IV back but before he could do anything, he felt an energy blast penetrate his body, and then again and again. Right before he passed out, the last thought he had was how perfectly Sam's hand felt in his.


	126. Quench Your Thirst

**Author's Note: Written for 'Lemonade Day' (5 May). AU.**

* * *

The basketball hit the backboard with a satisfying thud before it fell through the net and Sam set her niece on the ground before the little girl turned and attempted a high-five.

"Way to go, Lucy," she encouraged her before ruffling her hair. "Two more points for Team Carter!"

"I think you'll find we're all Carters."

"Yeah," Sam shrugged as she turned to face her brother then grinned, "but only one of us is winning."

"You have an unfair advantage."

"Because my niece and nephew chose to be on my team?"

"It's three against one!"

"They're four and seven, Mark," Sam laughed before she threw the basketball at him. "You're such a bad loser."

He went to respond but something over Sam's shoulder caught his attention and he started to wave. Sam turned but all she could see was a neighbor across the street disappear around the far side of a truck.

"Here," Mark said as he threw the ball back to his sister. "I'll be right back."

She watched as he crossed the street towards his neighbor but her attention was diverted when her nephew said it was his turn to play. As Sam shouted a word of encouragement to Michael, she could feel someone watching her, but she tried to ignore the sensation as she watched her nephew successfully hit the backboard.

"Excellent job, Michael," she smiled.

"Hey guys," Sam turned to see her brother approaching with another little boy by his side. "You don't mind if Charlie joins us for a while? His dad has some work to do. He won't be long," he added quietly, giving Sam an almost apologetic look.

She smiled away his concern at the unplanned interruption and crouched down so she was eye level with Charlie.

"Well, it's nice to meet you, Charlie," she said. "I'm Sam. I'm Michael and Lucy's aunt."

"It's nice to meet you ma'am."

Sam ducked her chin at the polite address and stood. "You want to play basketball?"

An enthusiastic nod was her answer but before she could say anything else, Mark spoke.

"I think we're definitely going to need to even up the teams."

"Fine," she relented as she rolled her eyes. "Lucy is with me. Charlie and Michael go with you?"

"Deal."

With the teams sorted, they played basketball as best they could in Mark's driveway and with three kids under the age of seven. When Sam sank another shot into the net, she playfully punched her brother on the arm before she tucked an errant strand of hair behind her ear.

"Two points," came a voice from behind her. "Nice!"

She turned to see a man, slightly older than her brother, standing at the end of the driveway with an appreciative smile on his face.

"Don't encourage her, Jack," Mark said as he gathered the ball under his arm.

Sam chose to ignore his comment and instead let her gaze return to the mysterious stranger. He was handsome in a rugged, almost devilish way, and Sam felt a stirring of something low in her belly.

"Dad!"

"Hey, sport," he grinned, carefully balancing a jug in his right hand while Charlie ran towards him and collided with his legs.

"Do you want me to take that?" Mark asked gesturing towards Jack's hand.

"Thanks," he nodded. "It's just lemonade. You – ah – all looked thirsty," he responded awkwardly, running a hand across the back of his neck. "Besides," he shrugged. "It's the least I could do since you've looked after Charlie for the past hour."

Mark took the jug but just before he turned to leave, he gestured towards his sister.

"Jack, this is my sister, Samantha. Sam – this is Jack."

"It's nice to meet you, Jack."

"You too, Samantha."

She smiled at the way her name sounded on his lips but before she could focus on why that suddenly mattered so much, she turned her attention back to the kids.

"So, you're Charlie's dad?"

"Yeah."

"He seems a great kid."

"He is," Jack confirmed proudly. "He goes to the same school as your niece and nephew."

"Oh," Sam said, sounding surprised. "I didn't know –"

"Come and get it," Mark shouted from the front door as he held a tray of glasses in the air.

As the kids abandoned all ideas of playing basketball and ran to get their drinks, Sam chuckled softly to herself, not realizing that Jack had now moved to stand beside her.

"So, are you just visiting or..."

She could feel him steal glances at her out of the corner of his eye, while he tried to act casual and keep his attention on the scene in front of them.

Trying to hide her smile, Sam shook her head. "I'm staying with Mark and the family for the summer."

"Huh."

"What?"

It was then he turned his head slightly to look at her and let his gaze roam over her face.

"It's nothing," he eventually answered. "I was just trying to figure out how much time that gives me to get to know you better."

Sam met his eye despite the blush now evident on her face. "You seem very confident in your abilities."

His smirk widened. "Can I get you a drink?"

He didn't wait for an answer and Sam found her gaze involuntarily traveling lower as she watched him make his way towards the house to grab her a drink. Without warning, he turned and Sam caught the amusement in his expression as he found her checking him out.

She took a deep breath and slowly followed him, desperately trying to calm her now racing heart. She had no idea what had just happened or what she was about to get into, but as she reached for the proffered glass and her fingers brushed against his, Sam couldn't ignore the tendril of warmth that ignited within her. She took a drink of the lemonade to try and cover her surprise but she had a sudden, sneaking suspicion that the thirst she now felt would only be quenched by the man who was studying her with fire in his eyes and a smile on his lips.


	127. Dietary Restrictions

**Author's Note: Written for 'No Diet Day' (6 May). Set post-series.**

* * *

"Okay," Sam said as she spun on her heel and hands on her hips. "Who are you and what have you done with Jack O'Neill?"

Jack froze as he entered the kitchen, a hand hovering over his loosened tie. Slowly, he set his briefcase down onto the counter and frowned. "Well, hello to you too, Carter."

She smiled at his greeting but before she could say anything, he added, "What are you doing in Washington?"

"I thought I'd surprise you," she shrugged as if it was the most obvious reason in the world as to why she was standing in the middle of his kitchen as opposed to being in Colorado Springs with SG-1.

"I think you've managed to do that," he replied as he made his way around the counter to stand in front of her. He reached for her hand and tugged her closer. "Hank never said you were due some downtime."

"Cam put his back out on our last mission," she said, "so we were taken off the roster for a few days."

"So, you're gonna be here for a few days," he grinned as he stepped closer, his hands moving to the small of Sam's back.

"I don't know," she challenged. "Do you have something you need to tell me?"

"I, uh… huh?"

"You mean to tell me that _this_ ," she said as she stepped out his arms and opened the refrigerator door, "isn't suspicious?"

With his concern slowly mounting, Jack peered over his wife's shoulder then shrugged as he grabbed a bottle of water from the door and stepped back out of her way.

"What?"

"You have food. _Healthy_ food."

"Yeah," he drawled after swallowing a mouthful of water. "A guy has to eat, you know."

"But it's _actual food_. In all the time you were on SG-1, all you ever stored in your refrigerator was questionable takeaways and beer."

"Yeah, well, I'm not on SG-1 now," he sighed. "And I'm not as young as I once was."

"I don't –" Sam stopped abruptly at the slight grimace that crossed Jack's face at his words and everything started to slip into place. "Is that what this is about?"

"What's that?"

His attempt to act innocent didn't fool her, however. It never did and she tilted her head to the side.

"Jack –"

 _"Sam –"_

"You know I love you, no matter what. I –"

"Flying a desk all day is killing me, Carter," he interrupted grumpily. "I –"

The rest of his argument was cut off as Sam pressed her lips against his and let her arms circle his waist. "You still look – and feel – damn fine to me... _General_ ," she murmured against his skin a moment later.

A groan involuntarily escaped Jack and he turned them both so Sam was now trapped between the counter and his body.

"I don't feel fine," he responded in between kisses.

Slowly, Sam let the tips of her fingers trace his sides. Okay, so maybe he had put on a couple of pounds since transferring to Washington, but unless you really knew him, you couldn't actually see the difference.

"So, what's for dinner?" he mumbled, pulling her from her thoughts, as he left a trail of kisses along her neck.

"Um, I – _oh_ –" she mumbled. "I don't – I don't know if I'm that hungry anymore."

With a grin, Jack took her hand in his and started to lead her out of the kitchen when he stopped and his attention fell onto a plain, white cardboard box on the counter.

"What's that?"

"I, ah, brought you some cake," Sam answered, a slight flush on her face.

"Really?"

"Yeah."

"Is it –"

"Your favorite? Yes, Jack," she laughed.

A glint appeared in his eye before it vanished and before Sam could do anything, Jack had swiped the box from the counter and resumed their journey to the bedroom.

"I guess a guy can take a day off from his diet," he mumbled as he pulled Sam into the room and kicked the door closed behind them.


	128. Kotys

**Author's Note: Written for 'World Asthma Day' (7 May).**

 **The choice of holidays for this date were not great… I apologize now.**

* * *

Jack liked the Bapteseans, he really did. He thought they were great – even if they did still believe the Goa'uld were gods – and they knew how to throw one hell of a celebration, but when they brought out a "gift" from their supposed goddess, Jack started to plan their escape. However, when the gift turned out to be some kind of weird green glitter powder, he hesitated and decided to let Daniel do a little investigating – which would have been fine, only for the archaeologist to discover that the "powder" was actually some kind of drug, left behind by the Goa'uld for the people of the planet. Jack didn't want to know the reasons why and had tried to get the locals to forgo using the "gift", but before the team could do anything, the evening party had quickly started to turn into something more like an orgy, and he knew it was time for he and his team to retreat before they fell into any danger.

They had just made it to the outskirts of the village when they came face to face with four Jaffa. With both sides quickly drawing their weapons, the stand-off was broken by the appearance of a youthful – and very beautiful – woman who stood between the two groups. However, before any further introductions could be made, her eyes glowed and she smirked.

"Well, if it isn't SG-1."

Jack forced a smile, but kept his weapon trained on the Jaffa. "And you would be?"

"Kotys."

"Daniel?"

"Uh, the goddess of rampant insobriety and obscene behavior."

"Ah." Jack winced, realizing why the Bapteseans' sudden change in behavior made more sense. "Hathor 2.0?"

"In a manner of speaking," he mumbled and Jack resisted the urge to shudder at the thought.

He studied the Goa'uld and her Jaffa for a few more seconds and decided that as they didn't seem prepared to kill them just yet, it would be best for the team to cause as little trouble as possible for the people of PCY-772. With a sigh, he reluctantly signaled for them to lower their weapons and lead the way back to the village, but when they arrived, Jack could only describe the scene as wild and lascivious. So much so, that he felt himself blushing and didn't know quite where to look.

"Does the air look… green to anyone else?"

He cast a glance to Carter who was standing to his right before he forced himself to look around them and he frowned. Their surroundings did indeed have a green tinge to them, and it felt a little hard to breathe. He could see pockets of green smoke rising sporadically around and if he looked closer, he'd even swear the smoke was glistening.

What else struck him as odd, however, was the fact that the Bapteseans – at least the ones that were still conscious – had yet to notice their re-emergence to the celebration – or that of their 'goddess'. Not that Kotys particularly seemed to mind. Jack's frowned deepened; he'd yet to meet a Goa'uld that didn't demand their existence be acknowledged the second they arrived and he felt the hairs on the back of his neck stand on end. Especially when she glanced at Daniel, then Teal'c, before suddenly meeting his eye.

"So," she purred as she stepped closer to the team, and a slow, almost feral smile, twisted her lips, "which one of you shall be the first to join the celebrations?"

"Uh, how about none of us," Jack answered.

Kotys tilted her head slightly and studied him before she gestured to a group of young women to her right.

"Are you sure?"

Jack rolled his eyes to hide his discomfort. All he really wanted right now was his gun so he could shoot Kotys, her Jaffa, and try to stop whatever-the-hell-kind-of-drug-induced-spell the Bapteseans had fallen under.

"Very well," she sighed, pulling him from his thoughts. "Perhaps your female would be more willing."

Suddenly, one of the Jaffa grabbed Sam's arm and dragged her forward towards Kotys. As Jack, Daniel and Teal'c all tried to reach for her, the remaining three Jaffa intervened and restrained them.

Jack's voice was low, dangerous when he spoke.

 _"Get your hands the hell off her."_

The air seemed to fall silent around them. The only sound Jack could hear was the roaring in his ears as he realized he had just screwed up. He tried to keep his expression neutral, and ignore the looks the rest of his team were now giving him. But then he saw it. The moment Kotys knew she'd stumbled across something.

"She belongs to you?"

Jack's jaw tightened but he refused to say anything, or let his gaze wander from the Goa'uld who now stood inches from him. She let her gaze travel between him and Carter for a few seconds.

She then nodded towards the Jaffa restraining Carter, who quickly knocked the back of her legs and forced her to her knees and Jack couldn't help but struggle against his own captor.

"Interesting," Kotys mumbled, before she turned away. "Despite what you believe, I treat my people well."

"Yeah, I'm sure," Jack muttered.

"Do they look unhappy or ill-treated?"

"Depends on your definition of morality, doesn't it?"

Her smile faded slightly at the colonel's question. "Perhaps you would understand better if we showed you our ways, personally."

"I think we've seen enough."

 _"Silence!"_

Jack clamped down on any further argument he had as Kotys' eyes glowed.

"Rel'tac," she whispered.

"That one," Daniel translated quietly to his left and Jack's stomach plummeted as she gestured towards Carter. The Jaffa roughly hauled his teammate to her feet and brought her to stand before the Goa'uld before shoving her back onto her knees.

"I won't tell you anything," Sam said defiantly and Jack felt a surge of pride as he tried to shrug out of Jaffa's hold on his shoulders.

Kotys' laughter filled the air and the sound turned Jack's blood cold.

"Oh, you won't be doing any talking," she said airily as she circled Sam before she stopped and let her lips hover by her ear. "This one," she continued quietly, as she waved a hand towards Jack, "holds you in high regard. He will be the one to tell me everything I want to know."

"I won't tell you squat," he shot back.

"We'll see."

With that, Kotys removed a small velvet pouch from her belt and poured the contents into the palm of her hand. Stealing another glance at Carter, Jack frowned as the Goa'uld muttered a few unintelligible words over the green powder while Sam started to struggle against the Jaffa who held her captive. Suddenly, Kotys lifted her hand threw the powder into Sam's face.

A shuddering gasp escaped the major before she started to cough and the Jaffa that stood behind her suddenly let go, as did the Jaffa holding Jack hostage. Without thinking, he lunged forward as he heard Sam gasp for breath.

Slowly, everything around him started to fade away and he watched with horror as the color drained from Carter's face and she collapsed to the ground.

 _"Carter!"_

He dropped to his knees and immediately Sam reached out and tugged on the sleeve of his jacket.

"Jack," she wheezed, while her other hand clawed frantically at her throat. "I – can't – breathe."


	129. Barefoot

**Author's Note: Written for 'No Socks Day' (8 May).**

 **Also, to the guest reviewer who wanted to know why I keep apologizing for my fics. There are times when I'm not completely happy with what I've written, and this then makes me think that they aren't good enough for anyone else to read either, but because this challenge is so insane and has taken up a lot more of my time than I ever envisaged, I don't have the time to make each story the best it can be, or I think you all deserve, and that makes me feel guilty. I hope that explains it a little! :)**

* * *

She's had the entire flight to figure out exactly what she is going to say to her commanding officer as soon as she sees him, and she's already decided to apologize first and then – depending on how pissed off he is – she'll explain how she, with a lot of help from Jonas, managed to find him. But any plans she has to initiate the conversation completely desert her when he steps onto the Tok'ra ship and Sam notices that he is barefoot.

It throws her for a loop and as ridiculous as it may seem, she doesn't know how to process the information, because even though they've virtually lived in each other's pockets for six years now – this is the first time she remembers seeing him without his shoes and socks.

The discovery sits uneasily on her chest which she finds odd, but can't quite put her finger on why. All she does know is that she can't bring herself to look at him, and it's not just down to the fact that she's ashamed that she messed up and it's her fault the colonel ended up stranded on a deserted moon with Harry Maybourne.

"Hey, Carter."

His voice is warm and soft and welcoming and it makes the knot in her stomach lessen slightly, but when she smiles, it doesn't reach her eyes and her eyes don't reach his inquisitive stare.

"Hi, sir."

"Jacob tells me you're the one I need to thank for the rescue."

"Oh, uh, I don't – I didn't –"

"You don't know how glad I am to see you," he interrupts, his voice lowering as the internal door of the ship closes behind him.

"Colonel, I –"

She lets her gaze fall to the floor and there's just a moment that passes before she hears the slight rustle of fabric and then he's padding across the space and his feet suddenly appear in her line of vision. But it's only when he wiggles his toes and murmurs her name, the sound coming from somewhere deep inside his chest, that the realization as to why she's avoided looking at him feels like a sucker punch.

And it's because a part of her – the part she keeps firmly locked away in _that_ room – has always, perhaps foolishly, imagined that the first time she saw him barefoot would be when they were finally together, and when his hands are on her waist as he slowly backs her up towards his bed and they give in to the desires they have been forced to pretend don't exist.

She can feel her skin grow hot, but now his gaze is also burning into her skin, and when his fingers hook around hers and he gives them a gentle tug, she finally allows herself to meet his stare.

His eyes are dark and intense and it's almost as if he _knows_.

 _"Sam."_

Then, his hands slowly cup her face and her eyes close at the contact.

"Sir," she breathes, before Jack's lips cover hers and his fingertips leave a trail of blazing fire along her ribs as his hands settle on her hips and she feels herself being backed up against the nearest wall.

* * *

 **Even though this isn't a funny fic, the whole way through this, I kept cracking myself up over the time RDA appeared at a convention I was at and mid-way through a panel (with Amanda and Michael), he realized he'd forgotten to wear socks. Still one of the weirdest, yet most amusing moments, I've ever witnessed. Ever.**


	130. Lightweight

**Author's Note: Written for 'Moscato Day' (9 May). Episode tag for season 4 'Scorched Earth'.**

* * *

He knows Sam can hold her beer better than most, but give her wine and it's another matter entirely. He's still to figure out what exactly it is that makes her react differently to the alcohol, but it is always the wine that makes her lose the formalities and say what's really on her mind as she leans towards being drunk.

He still remembers vividly the first time he'd to help his then-captain home following a team night out, when – at Daniel's insistence – they drink wine instead of beer. After that, however, Jack had known Sam to try and stick to beer. The only exception seemed to be whenever the team had a particularly bad mission and she wanted an evening to try and forget the horrors they'd witnessed.

The reminder is like a stab in the chest and he feels guilty because he knows he's the reason she is now sitting at the far end of the bar by herself, nursing a glass of white wine.

He had his suspicions that he would find her here. Over the past year they've both, separately, somehow managed to discover this rundown just-out-of-town bar, yet they always seem to turn up within an hour of each other, on the same evenings, and always after everything is FUBAR. So, they'll drown their sorrows for a while but yet find that one of them is always still miraculously sober enough to drive the other safely home.

He debates over whether he should approach her or not and instead finds himself occupying one of the stools at the opposite end of the bar and signals for a beer. He takes his time drinking it and just observes. The way her brow is permanently creased or the way her eyes darken every-so-often or the way when she finishes her drink, she doesn't hesitate and immediately signals for another. The guilt returns with a vengeance and he knows that it isn't going to be an easy ride. He'd ordered her to make a Naquadah bomb – even though he knew she didn't want to, and even though he knew Daniel had gone back to the ship.

He takes a swig of beer and just as he plucks up the courage to go to Sam, she lifts her head and all he can see are her bright, blue eyes staring. Unflinching. He gives her what he hopes is at least a half-smile but her expression darkens and without looking away, she grabs her wine, jumps off the stool and makes her way towards one of the booths in the far corner. With a wince, he grabs his beer and slowly follows.

"I didn't see your car out front."

"I took a cab."

Her tone is cold, detached but he refuses to let his discomfort show as he slides into the opposite side of the booth and studies her.

"Ah."

"So, is that why you're here? To make sure I get home safely, sir?"

"I'm just drowning my own sorrows, actually."

It's a half-truth, supported by the snort that escapes Sam, but he chooses to ignore it.

"You talk to Daniel?"

He surprises them both with his question, and Sam's gaze snaps to his for a moment before she looks away.

"I tried," she finally admits. "He said he wasn't ready to listen."

Jack pulls a face but he can't quash the frustration he feels rising at Daniel. Okay, so a part of him – with hindsight – can understand why their teammate is angry and upset, but it's not Carter's fault. She was only following _his_ orders and the fact that Daniel is blaming Sam for the day's turn of events fills him with anger.

"Carter –"

 _"Don't,"_ she snaps. "Just... don't."

A silence falls over the booth before she reaches forward and takes another drink.

"How many of those have you had?"

"Three."

"Do you want me to order you a beer?"

"No."

"Sam –"

"Don't call me that," she interrupts, before quietly pleading, "Please."

He takes in her now tear-filled eyes and nods. Even though he has so much he wants to say to her, he realizes it's safer to say nothing and sits in silence, waiting as long as it takes for her to finish her drink.

When the empty glass hits the table, he thinks she's about to order another when his hand shoots out and covers hers. She stares at him and he swallows hard at the mix of emotions in her eyes.

"You don't want to do this, Carter. Trust me."

"Trust you," she repeats slowly. "Is that another one of your orders. _Colonel?_ "

"Carter –" he sighs, then stops and leans his elbows on the table, but doesn't let go of her hand. "No. I just – let's go and get some air."

When Sam makes no move, he leans back. "Please?"

He releases a breath he doesn't realize he's been holding when the major finally pulls her hand away, grabs her purse and jacket and makes her way, a little unsteadily, out of the bar. He stays a couple of steps behind and when the cold air hits them as they step outside, he gestures to the left.

"My truck's over there."

She hovers around the front of the vehicle and shoves her hands in her pockets but refuses to meet his gaze.

"Look, Carter –"

"I'm not sure I'm ready to talk about the mission, sir."

"Okay," he nods. "But –"

"Daniel's not the only one hurting because of your actions."

Her words don't surprise him as much as they should, but the fact that she actually vocalizes the thought, does.

"I'm sorry," he finds himself saying. "I –"

"Daniel almost died."

"I know," he admits, "but –"

"We could have lost him."

"I screwed up, Carter –"

"And it would have been our fault."

"I didn't have a choice. Lotan –"

"You don't get it, sir," she fires back suddenly as she steps up to him. "If it had been _anyone_ else – any other commanding officer – I would have fought harder to say no."

Her words break the silence like a gunshot and all that he hears is her ragged breathing and all he sees is how she's desperately trying not to fall apart, but he finds himself rooted to the spot, unable to do anything.

"I know it was an order," she adds quietly, her gaze dropping to his chest, "and that's a part of my job, but you were the one who gave the order. It was _you_."

"Carter, I –"

"I let my personal feelings cloud my professional judgment. _Sir._ "

The revelation horrifies him because he knows Sam has just revealed the reason for her own guilt. It's because of _him_. _Because she feels feelings for him that she's not meant to_ , but he never, _ever_ wants her to feel that he's putting her in a position where she thinks she owes him something and it's going to be mistaken as misplaced loyalty.

"Sam – I'm so sorry," he whispers. "I never –" he trails off, not knowing what else to say when she meets his gaze again.

He can see it in her eyes that underneath everything, she understands; and that she wants to forgive him – and a part of her already has because she knows _why_ he asked it of her and she knows it's her job to follow his orders – but he can also see how she isn't yet ready to accept what she has done. Because of _him_ and because he _cares about her a lot more than he's supposed to_ as well.

He reaches for her and she flinches and the move cuts deeper than he ever expected.

"I want to go home, sir."

"Sure, Carter," he nods. "I can do that."

He unlocks the truck and watches as she makes her way around the far side before she opens the door and climbs onto the passenger seat. Closing his eyes, he sighs heavily and hopes that his actions haven't destroyed his relationship with Carter, but he can't ignore the nagging feeling that things are about to get a lot, lot worse.

* * *

 **I know not much happened in this update, nor any real kind of resolution for Sam and Jack, but when you take in the episodes that precede this one – plus the one that comes after – it wasn't a happy time for our favorite duo, let alone SG-1 as a whole.**


	131. Up All Night

**Author's Note: Written for 'Stay Up All Night Night' (10 May), a night "for pulling an all-nighter".**

 **Episode tag for Threads.**

* * *

When she asks if he will stay up all night with her, he isn't quite sure what to expect. All he knows is that, in that moment, he would do anything for her without hesitation or question.

So, when she just simply sits on the couch, he joins her and when she pulls his arm down over her shoulders, entwines her fingers with his and rests her head against his chest, he lets her.

He doesn't say a word. He doesn't act like it's a bad idea or that they shouldn't be doing this. He's just _there_ , allowing her to take the comfort and reassurance she needs from him, and being whatever it is she needs him to be.

He listens as she starts talking, her voice barely above a whisper, but he can feel the slight vibrations through his sweater as she tells him about her childhood, and her mom and dad and brother. She mentions her time at the Academy and the situations she and her fellow cadets got themselves into. She confesses to feelings and insights he wasn't privy to throughout her years on SG-1 and the fact that she's baring her soul to him now, letting him be with her and seeing her at her most vulnerable is a position he feels wholly undeserving of. It makes him realize that while he knows everything there is to know about Colonel Carter, he's known nothing about _Samantha_. But he wants to and the secrets and stories she shares with him make him fall even further in love with her, something he didn't know was possible.

It's the early hours of the next morning before he realizes they have actually spent the entire night talking and somewhere along the way the woman in his arms has even managed to sneak underneath his own carefully-constructed walls because he finds himself telling her about Charlie and the other aspects of his life he tends to keep locked away tightly.

The sound of a phone ringing is what finally breaks their conversation and he mumbles an apology as he reaches for his jacket. Sam also starts to move away and without thinking, he pulls her back against him, simply shaking his head when she looks at him curiously. His eyes never leave hers as he tells Walter he'll be back at the SGC as soon as he can before he ends the call. For now, all he wants to do is spend the sunrise with the woman he knows he will undoubtedly be spending the rest of his life with.


	132. Starlight

**Author's Note: Written for 'International Astronomy Day' (11 May).**

 **A little backstory for Continuum. Because there is no timeline/reality/universe where their paths haven't crossed...**

* * *

Jack got to his feet alongside the rest of the audience in the auditorium and applauded as Commander Samantha Carter finished her presentation.

Whilst he didn't consider himself an expert in astronomy by any means, he knew enough to appreciate the wonder and phenomena of celestial space; and the fact that his son shared his love of the stars just made the hobby that much more special. It was the reason the two of them were here together, listening to a respected astronaut share her stories and experiences.

Throughout the lecture, Jack had tried his best to listen to Commander Carter but he found his attention drifting a few times – not because he'd been bored but because he couldn't stop looking at her. She was one of the most beautiful women he'd ever laid eyes on. The way her eyes sparkled as she spoke about the stars and a smile that brightened the room. There was just something about her that made him want to know _more_.

As the crowd started to filter out of the auditorium, he turned to ask his son what he thought of the talk, only to find he wasn't there. Glancing around, he caught sight of him going against the throng of people as he made his way towards the front of the room. Figuring Charlie wouldn't be able to make it too far before getting into trouble, Jack decided to wait for a moment before he followed, only to find his little boy had quickly made his way up the steps and onto the stage. Tracking his son's every movement, he grabbed their jackets and started to make his way towards the front when he hesitated. He watched Carter speak to a couple of aides and she had just lifted her papers from the lectern and was about to leave when Charlie reached up and tugged on the hem of her blazer. She turned and Jack noticed the surprise on her face when her gaze landed on his son. She looked around quickly, as if searching for his parents, before she smiled and crouched down to his level.

Jack took that as his cue to start moving again and by the time he reached the stage, Charlie was chatting away.

"– I even have my own telescope."

"Wow," Sam grinned. "Your own telescope? And have you been able to see any constellations?"

Jack stepped closer as Charlie nodded enthusiastically and rhymed off the constellations they'd spotted together.

"I am very impressed," Sam said. "So, do you want to be an astronaut when you're older?"

"It's all he wants to be," Jack interrupted with a grin and Sam's gaze snapped to his. Suddenly, everything around him seemed to fade away and Jack was momentarily rendered speechless at just how gorgeous the Commander was and how her eyes were the brightest blue he'd ever seen. Realizing he was staring, he quickly looked away.

"Charlie," he said. "What have I told you about walking away without telling me where you're going?"

"Sorry, dad," he mumbled, but Jack wasn't angry with him in the slightest. "I just wanted to speak to the Commander."

"Yeah," he grimaced, bringing the attention of the woman in question back to him. "I'm sorry about this. Charlie –"

"Oh, we've already been introduced," she smiled. "And he's fine. I love talking to kids who have a genuine enthusiasm for astronomy."

"He gets that from me, I'm afraid."

"Oh?"

"Yeah," Jack said, throwing her a lop-sided grin. "I can't say my knowledge is on par with an astronaut, but –"

A soft chuckle escaped Sam and Jack felt a flicker of warmth ignite in his chest.

"It was a great talk, by the way," he added after a beat, gesturing vaguely to the images that were still projected on the screen behind her.

She dipped her head and mumbled a quiet "thank you", and Jack was surprised to discover that she seemed almost embarrassed by his statement.

"I'm never sure about my presentations," she offered a moment later. "Whether it's too boring for people. So, I'm glad you enjoyed it."

"Do you have more stories you can tell us, Commander Sam?"

"Uh, it's Commander Carter," Jack corrected quietly, "And I think she's –"

He stopped talking when Sam shook her head. "Please, call me Sam," she cut in, before she turned to Charlie. "And I have lots of stories I could share."

At this, the little boy's eyes lit up and Jack resisted the urge to sigh. There would be no chance of getting his son to leave now. He was just about to gently remind him that it was a school night, when movement behind Sam drew his attention and one of the aides nervously stepped forward.

"Um, Commander Carter?"

Sam turned, and almost seemed surprised to find they were still there.

"I'm sorry, ma'am, but we really need to –"

"Oh, right. Yes." She winced then glanced between Jack and Charlie and he could see something like regret and indecision in her eyes.

"Everything okay?" The question had left his lips before he could stop it.

"I – ah – as much as I would love to spend more time with –"

"You don't need to explain –"

"No, it's not that," she stressed quickly, then took a step forward and lowered her voice. "It's just I have a meeting I really need to be at and –"

"Commander Carter?" came the aide's voice. "Your father –"

"– will be waiting for me, I know," she finished through gritted teeth. "I'm coming."

"I really am sorry," she sighed and Jack could tell that she was genuinely annoyed at having to leave.

He tried to think of something to say, because for some inexplicable reason, he didn't want her to leave either, when suddenly, Sam flipped her notes over and started writing, before she tore the piece of paper in half. She bit down on her bottom lip as if she was thinking something over and then crouched down to be eye-level with Charlie.

"I have to go," she said quietly, "but I meant what I said. I have lots of stories that I would love to share with you. So, if you want to hear them sometime during the week… maybe your dad can give me a call," she finished as she stood and met Jack's eye before she held up the folded piece of paper.

Trying not to let his sudden nervousness – or excitement – show, Jack took the page and nodded, his gaze never leaving hers.

"You can count on it," he mumbled and as Sam's lips twitched, he felt himself smiling.

When the aide quietly cleared their throat, she rolled her eyes and Jack felt his smile widen. "Well, it was lovely to meet you Charlie," she said. "And Charlie's dad."

At his confused look, Sam smirked. "You never actually told me your name."

 _"Oh."_ He reached out and shook her hand. "It's Jack."

She regarded him for a moment before she let her hand fall away and with a final smile, she turned to leave. She'd almost made it off the stage when she turned back.

"Call me."

"Ya sure you betcha," Jack grinned.

* * *

 **This update has driven me around the bend. I tried a story for Children of the Gods. I tried a story for Tangent. I tried a story for Metamorphosis. I tried a story for Grace… and nothing worked. And this was my fifth and final attempt to try and deliver a fic for today!**


	133. Additional Mileage

**Author's Note: Written for 'Odometer Day' (12 May). Set post-series.**

* * *

Sam steps into the garage and smiles as she takes in the sight of her Indian sitting exactly where it should be, and moves towards the bike, removing the covers before folding them and setting them to the side.

Casting her eye over it, everything seems to be as she left it before she went to Atlantis. A part of her wished she could have taken the Indian with her – even though she knew it was impossible – but she was slightly happier knowing that General O'Neill had promised he would call into the house and check everything was in order every time he was in Colorado Springs.

Even though she was still annoyed about how her commanded had ended, she was also glad to be home. To be back on Earth and closer to her family, and friends, and of course, Jack.

She lets her gaze roam over it before she swings her leg over and straddles the bike. She turns the key and the engine roars to life, igniting the adrenaline junkie within her. She's just about to kick the stand up when her attention falls on the odometer and she frowns.

Leaning in closer, she studies the number staring back at her and her eyes narrow suspiciously.

 _"Oh, he didn't,"_ she mumbles before she kills the engine and fishes her cell phone from her pocket.

He answers on the third ring.

 _"Hey."_

"General."

There's a beat of silence before he answers. _"Carter?"_

"So, I'm just about to take the Indian out for a spin."

 _"You wearing your leathers?"_

She can virtually hear his smile and she can't help but grin. "Yes."

A low groan escapes the general and Sam's grin widens. _"Is that why you called? To torture me until I can see you again this weekend?"  
_  
"No," she says, running a fingertip along the handlebars of the bike. "I was actually calling to see if there was something you needed to tell me?"

 _"I love you?"_

She rolls her eyes, but smiles at his response. "I meant more along the lines of my Indian."

 _"Oh."_ He pauses and she can imagine his brow furrowing in confusion as he tries to figure out what she's talking about. _"It's a sweet ride?"_

"She is," Sam confirms.

 _"Well, I just have to take your word on that Carter,"_ he says lightly, _"because it's been, what? Ten years now and you've yet to let me take her out."_

"Really?"

 _"Yeah."  
_  
"Huh. That's funny," she says, tilting her head to the side.

 _"What is?"  
_  
"Well, she's spotless. Just like I left her –"

 _"I promised I'd look after her."  
_  
"And I appreciate it," she nods. "But there's just one thing that's wrong."

 _"What's that?"  
_  
"Care to tell me why there's fifty additional miles on her clock?"

The silence that follows her question tells her everything she needs to know and she grins when Jack sighs over the phone.

 _"D'oh!"_


	134. Playing With The Boys

**Author's Note: Written for 'Top Gun Day' (13 May).**

 **Okay, so this is could possibly (i.e.** _ **definitely**_ **) be viewed as OOC, but as it's an alternate reality offering I decided to just throw a few different things into the mix here… so, some details may have been fudged.**

 **The premise is a little weird, and for that, I'm sorry,** _ **but**_ **in my defense, I didn't know I needed a Stargate version of the Top Gun-inspired volleyball scene in my life until this morning. If you don't believe me, just think of Jack O'Neill. Shirtless.**

* * *

The sound of raucous laughing and cheering reached Sam's ears and she sighed. She'd traveled to California to get away from that kind of noise and behavior for a weekend, but it seemed that was not going to be the case. Not with the all-male volleyball game currently taking place just a little further along the beach.

Adjusting her sunglasses, she laid back down on her beach towel and tried to relax. Just as she was about to fall asleep, a shadow fell over her and she cracked open an eye to see Janet Fraiser staring at her.

"You should come and join us, Sam."

"I'm good, thanks."

"But we could show the guys how it's done."

Despite her annoyance at the interruption, Sam laughed at her friend's enthusiasm.

"If you want to join in, go ahead. I'm certainly not stopping you."

"I don't want to go back down there on my own."

"Isn't Cam there?"

"Yeah," Janet shrugged. "He's managed to work his way onto one of the teams."

Sam gave a non-committal hum in answer as she closed her eyes again.

"Please, Sam."

"Janet –"

"There's a couple of really cute captains down there."

"You mean there's one that you think is cute?"

A beat of silence passed before Janet crouched down beside her. "Okay fine," she huffed. "I'd like some moral support."

"What's his name?"

"Charles Kawalsky."

With a resigned sigh, Sam pulled herself into a seated position before getting to her feet. She located her flip-flops, but decided to just stay in her shorts and bikini top, rather than throw a t-shirt on; after all, she didn't plan on being away for any length of time. She would accompany Janet down to the volleyball, help introduce her to this Captain Kawalsky, and then hightail it out of there so she could get back to her plans of doing absolutely nothing for the rest of the day.

As they neared the makeshift volleyball court that had been pegged out in the sand, another round of cheers erupted as one pf the players hit the sand face first, and consequently lost the point for his team.

"Ferretti, you suck," voiced his teammate, who didn't seem annoyed by the loss at all, but rather found the situation highly amusing.

"You suck," the man she assumed to be Ferretti fired back, right before she heard Cam pipe up from the other side of the net, "You both suck."

His comment earned him a grin and a high-five from his teammate and Sam rolled her eyes at their childish antics. She had just turned to Janet to tell her she was on her own, when her friend waved at someone across the way. Following her gaze, Sam realized she was waving at Ferretti's teammate.

"I'm guessing that's your crush," Sam commented, smirking when Janet elbowed her in the ribs.

They stood and watched as Kawalsky lined up, ready for Cam's serve, but his attention was half on the game and half on Janet because when he tried to hit the ball back over the net, it bypassed the other team completely and instead landed at Sam's feet. She vaguely registered a man saying, "I'll get it" before she crouched down for the ball and when she straightened she saw him jog towards her.

He was a little older than her, which surprised Sam, and as he approached, she was suddenly thankful for her shades. He was tall, tanned and toned but the way he held himself, made her wonder if he was military. She pushed the thought aside however as she let her gaze fall to his chest which glistened with sweat and whilst that was usually a turn-off, she had to admit that it was working for her at that precise moment in time. As the man came to a stop in front of her, he removed his shades and Sam felt a flicker of warmth. His eyes were warm and brown and confident as he gave her his own appreciative onceover.

With her free hand, Sam removed her sunglasses and met his eye.

"I believe this is yours."

"Thanks," he grinned, taking the volleyball from her before he let his gaze slide to Janet. "I saw you here earlier."

She nodded. "I'm with Cam – just as a friend – not as – well, we're cadets. We're all cadets actually," she rambled, quickly gesturing towards Sam. Sam, in turn, stared at her in confusion, and missed the look of intrigue that passed through the stranger's eyes.

"You're military?"

Sam forced her attention away from Janet and back towards the man and shrugged. "Final year in the Academy. What?" she added when she caught his frown.

"Nothing," he said quickly. "I just… California seems a long way from Colorado when it's still term time."

"It's the weekend," Sam supplied with a smirk. "Finals start in two weeks."

"Ah," he said, his expression clearing. "Last weekend of freedom?"

"Something like that."

They held each other's gaze for a moment before the three men still standing on the volleyball court started shouting.

"I, ah… I should get back," he said, gesturing over his shoulder.

She nodded in agreement, when Janet jabbed her in the ribs with her elbow and when Sam glared at her, she let her gaze settle on Kawalsky.

" _Please_ , Sam," she whispered.

"Hey!" she called before she could stop herself and when the man turned around, she let out a breath she didn't realize she'd been holding and moved towards him. "Listen, can I ask you a personal question?"

"That depends," he said, throwing the ball vaguely in the direction of the other players.

"Your friend over there," she said, nodding towards Kawalsky. "Is he single?"

Something in his expression darkened and Sam frowned. "Yeah, he is," he answered gruffly.

Taking a step closer, she lowered her voice. "Think you could put in a word for my friend, Janet? She thinks he's cute," she added at his confused look.

"Charlie?"

"Yeah. The one who can't seem to hit a volleyball."

A chuckle escaped him at her answer and the warmth she felt ignite in her chest earlier started to fan its way through the rest of her body.

"What's your name?"

"Sam."

"I'm Jack," he grinned suddenly, reaching out to shake her hand, "and I'll see what I can do."

With that, he walked away and was almost back onto the court when he turned and waved for her to join him. She half-shrugged at Janet, who quickly appeared by her side, and the two of them made their way towards the men.

"Fellas," Jack started. "This is Sam and Janet – they're friends of Cam."

As he made the rest of the introductions, Sam couldn't help but notice how Kawalsky's gaze lingered on Janet for a second longer than strictly necessary and she tried to hide her grin. However, Jack also seemed to have picked up on it and he subtly winked at Sam before he spoke again.

"So, I thought we might change things up a little. Charlie, since you suddenly seem unable to hit a ball, you're benched."

"What?" he spluttered. "But – I –"

"Use the time to rest," he added with a slight incline of his head towards Janet. "Cam," he added, "Go take Kawalsky's spot on the other team."

"But I thought we were the dream team?"

"I'm just going to pretend you never said that," Jack muttered after a moment, gaining a huff of laughter from Sam.

"Who's going to be your teammate then, Jack?" Ferretti grinned.

"Sam."

Sam's earlier amusement quickly faded and she shook her head. "Oh, no. No, Jack, this is not a good idea."

"Sure it is," he said, placing a hand on her lower back and gently guiding her onto the court. "You're my new wingma– er – woman. Wing _woman_."

Her doubt must have shown on her face however because he leaned closer and let his lips hover by her ear as he whispered, "We're helping your friend."

Trying desperately to ignore the way his breath tickled her face and neck, or the way his touch set her skin on fire, she followed his gaze towards their friends to find them already deep in conversation.

"Janet so owes me for this," she sighed. "All right. Let's do this."

"Excellent! You know how to play?"

"Yep."

"Then you're already better than my last teammate. Alright," Jack called, "remember boys, no points for second place."

With a smug grin, he hit the ball over the net and restarted the game. It didn't take long for the two of them to quickly wipe the floor with Ferretti and Cam – much to her enjoyment. She couldn't explain it, but she and Jack just had this connection. They didn't need to say anything; it was just a slight hand gesture here, or an exchanged glance there, and they knew exactly what the other wanted to do. As they played for the final point, Jack let Sam take the honors and when their opposition both dived to reach the ball – only to collide with each other in the process – Jack punched the air in victory, while Sam's laughter filled the air as she reacted to his high-five, right before he wrapped his arms around her, lifted her off the ground and spun her around.

"Now, _that_ , is what you call a dream team," he murmured as he set her back down, his face just inches from hers.

Sam's gaze involuntarily flicked down to his lips but before she could even think of possibly finding out what they felt like against hers, Cam appeared in her line of vision. She quickly stepped away from Jack and his embrace and hoped that the burn she now felt on her face was from the sun and not embarrassment.

"Remind me _never_ to play any kind of game with you again," Cam grumbled, as he wiped sand from his face.

"You've yet to win a game of pool against me," she smirked. "What made you think this would be any different?"

Mumbling something unintelligible, he moved away to grab his t-shirt, while Ferretti had his top slung over his shoulder. "That was some impressive game play," he admitted, before he let his gaze shift to his friend. "Can't say the same for you, Jack."

"Ha _ha,_ " he shot back, before he looked to Sam, his curiosity evident. "You play pool?"

"I can hold my own," she shrugged.

"Fancy a game sometime?"

Out of the two of them, she wasn't sure who was more surprised by the question, but she found herself answering before she could talk herself out of it.

"I'd like that."

"Do you know the Chevron bar? The guys and I are heading over there tonight for dinner and a couple of drinks – but they've got some pool tables as well."

"Sounds good," she nodded. "About eight-thirty?"

"Perfect," he grinned. "If you want to bring your friend along you can," he added as he reached down to grab his t-shirt and Sam found herself transfixed at the way the muscles in his arms and back rippled with every movement. "Remind her that she owes you one."

She frowned slightly at his words, and he took a step closer. "I don't –"

"You did this to help her get to know Charlie, right?"

"Yeah," she answered distractedly as he pulled his t-shirt over his head.

"So, she can do this to help you."

"Help me with what?"

"Well, maybe not so much as to help you – but rather to help me."

Despite her confusion, she couldn't help but smile. "Why do you need help?"

"Well," he said, taking another step closer. "Who else is going to distract Charlie while I get to know you better?"

"I – ah – _oh._ "

"Yeah," he echoed. _"Oh."_ _  
_  
Saved from trying to think of something to say, Jack grinned, his shoulder brushing against hers as he went to walk past. "See you tonight, _Samantha._ "

She tried to ignore the way her heart was now racing but as she turned to watch him walk away, she realized that any nerves she had about meeting him tonight were overrun by her desire to spend more time with him.

As if he could read her thoughts, he looked back over his shoulder and threw her a sloppy salute and Sam knew she was going to need more than a beer to put out the flames of fire Jack had set alight within her.

* * *

 **I've received q** **uite a few guest reviews and new readers lately, but as this site won't let me respond to you personally, please know that I am so thankful and appreciative for every single review, follow and favorite I have received to date and for the time you have all invested in this series. Your encouragement is genuinely what keeps me going with this on days where I struggle to find an idea or summon the energy to write something. Thank you.**

 **Also, kudos to anyone who recognized the Top Gun references!**


	135. Footloose

**Author's Note: Written for 'Chicken Dance Day' (14 May). Sorry it's late.**

* * *

There are times when Jack O'Neill looks at his team and all he feels is pride.

Because you have a colonel in the United States Air Force, an astrophysicist, an archaeologist and an alien who, in the four years they've worked together, have already saved their planet on countless occasions from threats a majority of the people on Earth have absolutely no idea about.

Then, there are times – like now – when he looks at them and he's utterly terrified that the fate of the planet is in _their_ hands.

He sets down the drinks he was carrying and watches in part amusement, part horror at Daniel as he makes his way from one side of the back yard to the other doing what Jack surmises can only be described as some form of interpretative dance.

With a shake of his head, he takes a seat between Carter and Teal'c, both of whom are also studiously watching their teammate, and he can't help but grin.

He likes team nights like this, when they've been given a few days off the mission roster, so they are a little more relaxed and a little more likely to drink those couple of extra beers. When they all – except for Teal'c – swing from the category of slightly tipsy to drunk.

It's why Daniel is currently dancing in the yard.

He's a silly drunk and whilst it is endearing in its own way, Jack will admit that it's also hilarious; like the night he tried to goad the rest of them into a Jenga tournament, or there was the time when the archaeologist decided to do some internet shopping and ended up purchasing a 12-foot rubber dinghy and got it delivered to the SGC. Why Daniel has decided that this evening will be the night he just dances to whatever song comes on the radio, Jack has no idea, so he decides to let him be and lets his gaze slide to Carter. He finds himself smiling as he watches her.

Sam's dangerous because she alternates between a happy drunk and a flirty drunk, and Jack's never quite sure which one it's going to be. Tonight though, it's happy.

Which is probably just as well, because he's also been drinking and he'll be the first to admit that he's a flirty drunk. It's why his arm is currently leaning across the back of Sam's chair, while his thumb runs back and forth across the nape of her neck. He feels her lean into his touch slightly, and he knows they are walking a fine line, but before he can think about doing or acting on any notions he may or may not have, Daniel walks theatrically over to them and pulls Sam to her feet.

She easily lets him and Jack finds his smile widen. He likes seeing this side of his major; the side that doesn't have to hide behind her military persona; the side that lets him view the _woman_ behind the woman he admires and lo–

Suddenly, Sam's laughter fills the night sky and the sound fills Jack with a warmth that the firepit in front of him doesn't. He observes Sam as Daniel attempts to spin her around and the way the flames from the fire gives her profile an orange glow. She looks carefree and happy, content and perfect, and Jack leans further back into his seat, content all on his own to stay watching her for a while longer.

When she laughs again, he finds his gaze momentarily distracted however, and he flicks his attention to Daniel who has suddenly decided to attempt the chicken dance.

"C'mon," he drunkenly cajoles. "Teal'c, you know s'one, yeah?"

Teal'c's brow raises in what Jack thinks is barely-concealed horror and he chuckles. He meets Sam's gaze and when she smiles at him, that smile she reserves just for him, Jack gives her a subtle wink.

He really does love team nights like this.


	136. Chipped

**Author's Note: Written for 'Chocolate Chip Day' (15 May). Set during season 1, after the events of Singularity.**

* * *

The first inclination he receives that something is _off_ is when he's standing outside Captain Carter's front door and Cassie asks her if they can bake chocolate chip cookies.

It's nothing significant; just a note of surprise in Sam's expression, followed by a flicker of pain. It's gone in an instant, so no-one would ever know it was there, and suddenly she's smiling at Cass and telling her, _of course it's okay if they bake_. But it's enough for Jack to pick up on.

He tells himself that's why he accepts her offer to hang out when he really should have left the two of them alone and gone back to the SGC, or gone home, or gone _anywhere_ else. He's already spent the morning with Cassie at the park, and this is supposed to be Carter's time with her, so he doesn't interfere. He just pulls up a kitchen stool and _observes_.

For the most part, his captain hides whatever it is that's bothering her but her smile never quite reaches her eyes, nor do her eyes sparkle in the way they do whenever she's usually with Cassandra. Again, it's not something anyone else would notice, but he does.

The sound of Sam's voice pulls him from his thoughts and he glances over to see his teammate place her hands on Cassie's shoulders and gently turns her around.

"The cookies are almost ready," she nods. "Go and wash up."

When Cass tears past Jack, he half-heartedly shouts 'no running in the house' after her, but his chuckle dies on his lips when he looks back at Sam. Her back is to him, but he can tell from the set of her shoulders that she's tense.

"Everything okay, Captain?"

The question escapes him before he can stop it but she turns off the faucet and grabs a towel to dry her hands. He can see her thinking through her answer before she finally turns and faces him.

"Yes, sir."

"You sure?"

She nods, and he wants to argue the point, but something in his gut tells him to not to. He doesn't have to wait long.

"It's just… this is harder than I thought it would be."

A slight blush creeps onto her face at the admission, and Jack is on the verge of teasing her about how difficult baking cookies can be, when he catches the lost look in her eye.

"What happened?"

His voice is quiet, concerned.

"The last time I baked cookies – it was the day my mom died. I was twelve."

He swears softly under his breath and suddenly feels the need to apologize.

"I'm sorry, Sam. I –"

"It's fine," she interrupts quietly. "I was just surprised when Cassie asked and I didn't want to disappoint her and –"

"You'd never do that, captain, but you should have said something. I wouldn't have let you do this," he adds, gesturing towards the oven, "if I'd known."

She shrugs in response, and Jack isn't quite sure what to say to convince her that she didn't need to do this, but for a reason he decides not to focus on, he's also incredibly proud of her for fighting her demons for their kid and for feeling like she can trust him enough in the few months she's known him to be able to confide in him.

"Carter, I –"

"I washed up, Sam," Cassie excitedly calls from the doorway before she skips across the small kitchen.

"Good job, kiddo," he answers on her behalf, his gaze lingering on Sam's face for another few seconds. "Let's see if they are ready, shall we?"

Sam nods and moves back to the oven but her movements are slow, methodical, like _this_ is the moment she was actually dreading as opposed to the actual baking. She turns to face him and freezes, right before he hears the slight rattle of the tray and sees the infinitesimal shake of her hands.

He's standing in front of her before he can stop himself and his hands cover hers, guiding her and the tray towards the counter.

"Are they ready, Sam?"

He glances down to see Cass's head poking in between the two of them.

"Cass," Jack interrupts quietly, "Why don't you grab some milk and we can check?"

As soon as she reaches the refrigerator he nudges Sam gently with his shoulder. "Y'alright?" he mumbles.

She nods, but doesn't say anything, so he purses his lips and gently extricates her fingers from the tray.

"I've got this," he adds, nodding for her to take the stool he'd been using.

When she silently follows his order, he frowns, but then Cass appears with the milk and he gives her a smile.

"They look good to me, Cass!"

She beams up at him for a second, and when she starts bouncing on her heels with excitement, he can't help but grin.

"We need a plate."

He watches as she makes her way naturally around Sam's kitchen and before he knows it, there are three glasses filled with milk and a plate piled high with so many cookies, Jack wonders if Janet's going to kill him whenever she picks up her daughter later.

"Want to see if there's any cartoons on TV?"

With half a cookie already eaten, Cass bounces out of the kitchen. Sam gets to her feet and goes to grab two of the glasses, only for Jack to reach out and stop her. His fingers snag hers and he gives them a tug until she's standing in front of him.

"It's a really nice thing you did for Cassie."

At her soft smile, he squeezes her fingers and she meets his gaze.

"I mean it, Sam. This kind of thing – well," he shrugs, "it means a lot to kids."

Jack sees her expression change slightly and he hesitates, but before he can let any of them delve any further into what he meant by his words, he pulls her closer, his arms wrapping around her. He feels her tense for just a second before she returns the embrace.

"Thank you, sir," she mumbles against his chest and he feels the vibrations right through his entire body.

"For what?"

"For being here today."

"I wouldn't wanna be anywhere else," he answers honestly.


	137. Duly Noted

**Author's Note: Written for 'Notebook Day' (16 May). Set during season 3, after the events of 'A Hundred Days, but before 'Shades of Grey'.**

* * *

Jack raps his knuckles against the door to Sam's lab and waits. He waits a little longer before he tries again, but when there's still no answer after a minute, he isn't quite sure what to do, because of all the scenarios he's played out in his mind on the walk from his quarters to her lab, the major not actually being _in_ her lab has never once occurred to him.

He doesn't want to open the door and walk in, even though he usually would do just that, but having been away for three months has left him feeling a little out of the loop where his team – and especially Carter – are concerned and he isn't sure he has the right to make himself at home in her space when she's not there.

 _Home._

He snorts to himself in half-amusement, half-derision at the thought. He's glad to be home – _he really is_ – but he's having a hard time settling back in. Especially when everyone seems to be acting differently around him; particularly whenever Carter's name comes up in conversation.

His team are yet to go back onto the mission list, and they haven't spent much time together since his return.

Sure; Teal'c has been his ever-reliable self and let Jack readjust to life on Earth at his own pace, and the past few mornings they've been meeting in the gym for an early sparring session. It's helped them grow closer in a way they weren't before. While Daniel, instead of taking the liberty to inform him of every single ancient culture the SGC has come across in the time he was missing, has been telling him – repeatedly – about the feat of science Sam seemingly performed in order to bring him home from Edora. But it doesn't really mean much to him – it is physics after all – until Daniel slams down one of his history books and steadily meets his gaze.

 _I think you should go and see Sam_ , he said firmly, _and don't be an ass._

He wants to be offended at Daniel's suggestion, because he hasn't seen Carter for more than ten minutes since he's been back – but it's that realization that stopped him in his tracks as he tried to figure out why their paths haven't crossed. He hasn't necessarily been avoiding her, which means that she's been avoiding him and a heavy, uncomfortable weight had been sitting on his chest ever since he's come to that conclusion. He isn't sure how to take the discovery, or the feelings it's stirring, and he doesn't want to ask, but it's why he's now standing outside her lab because he needs to know.

He takes a quick look around the corridor and knocks on the door once again. When there's no response, he tries the handle and finds the lab is unlocked, so he pushes the door open, but before he can step inside he freezes.

Samantha Carter is one of the most meticulous people he knows, but her lab is an absolute mess.

There are whiteboards covered in scribbles and drawings, and pieces of paper haphazardly stuck to the walls. Her lab bench is hidden under layers and layers of pages, pens and pencils thrown across the surface, a half dozen long-forgotten about coffee cups scattered around her computer.

"What the hell?"

He steps inside the lab, his eyes darting around as he tries to take everything in, but it's too much and even though Daniel has tried to tell him that Sam had broken the laws of physics for him, he's only starting to understand that she _broke the laws of physics_.

 _For him._

His gaze lands on a notebook on the bench and he picks it up. He flicks through a few pages but nothing makes sense – there's numbers and letters and equations. Words have been crossed out, red lines and circles drawn around others. But it's chaos. Complete chaos.

To the point that if he didn't know Carter's work so well, he'd argue that this crazed confusion isn't her creation.

He flicks through a few more pages when one catches his eye. It's different from the rest. It's neat and careful; each word thoughtfully written.

 _I have to bring him home._

It's the only sentence on the page, but it's enough.

He swallows hard at the message and when a shadow falls over the desk his gaze snaps up to find Sam standing in the doorway, her eyes guarded, watching him.

He opens his mouth to speak but nothing comes out and when he sees her attention flick down to the notebook in his hand, and her eyes widen, he lets it fall closed but doesn't set it back on the bench.

He taps his thumb against the cover once, twice, three times before he looks back at Sam, her gaze clashing with his. His voice, when he finds it, is rough. Unsteady.

"You brought me home, Carter."

* * *

 **So, a couple of weeks ago, I mentioned that I had written a round-up of Wales Comic Con, which Amanda and RDA had attended. For anybody that's still interested, that review has now been published and can be found on GateWorld. As I can't seem to hyperlink on this site, it's currently on GW's home page, and it's "Stargate, 'Shipping,' And A Selfie".**


	138. Shaded

**Author's Note: Written for 'Shades Day' (17 May). Set some time during season 3.**

* * *

She knows it's bad when he refuses to remove his sunglasses.

He doesn't say anything, but it means she can't see him. She's not privy to the emotions that occasionally and briefly flit through his brown eyes – the emotions that reveal to her, despite the nonchalance he tries to carry, what he's really feeling.

She tries to move but pain racks her body and she cries out, before she feels a weight press down on her left shoulder and thigh.

"Don't move," he orders gently.

She wants to ask what happened but she doesn't have the energy. She's too tired and sore and just wants to sleep, so she lets her eyes drift closed only to have the hand that's still on her shoulder tighten.

"No sleeping, Carter. I need you to stay with me. Can you do that?"

She thinks she answers, but when her shoulder is given a gentle shake, she doesn't think she was successful.

 _"Sam."_

The sound of her name pulls her back from the brink of wherever she was headed and she forces her eyes open. He's still wearing his shades, but she can feel his gaze on her, roaming her body, searching for any injuries he can't see or might have missed.

"What –"

"You took a tumble down the side of a cliff," he interrupts. "Daniel and Teal'c are on their way with some help."

She tries to nod, but it hurts and it must show on her face because the grip the colonel has on her shoulder tightens again.

"Easy, Carter."

She looks up at him and he's giving her a half-grin, but even in her current state, it looks more like a grimace and even though he's tried to keep his voice light, she can hear the forced tones creep in around the edges.

"I can't see your eyes."

He freezes and Sam catches the infinitesimal way his jaw tenses, right before he speaks.

"I can see yours," he answers slowly.

She wants to say more, tell him that's not what she means, but the hand that's been resting on her thigh works its way to her left hand, his fingers entwining with hers.

"I can see yours," he repeats on a breath.

He squeezes her fingers and despite the sunglasses, she feels his gaze boring into hers. She stares back and it takes a few seconds, but then he dips his head. It's the smallest movement but suddenly _she knows_.

She knows that he now knows that she knows the reason _why_ he's refusing to remove his glasses; refusing to strip away that last barrier that will reveal how he really feels about the situation. About _her._

But she wants to see him. She knows there'll be worry and concern in his eyes, but she needs his reassurance that she is okay, because all she can feel is pain and –

"I can hear you thinking," he mumbles as he glances over his shoulder and she's vaguely aware of him waving at someone with his free hand before he turns back to her and gives her fingers one final squeeze before he lets go.

Then, Janet is hovering over her, asking questions and issuing orders and she soon finds herself being lifted onto a stretcher. She thinks she hears Daniel's voice in the background but Sam's attention is on her commanding officer as he pulls his sunglasses down just a touch.

She catches his flicker of relief before he pushes the glasses back into place and orders Daniel to lead the way.

It's all he can give her, she realizes, but for now, it's enough.


	139. Matters Of The Heart

**Author's Note: Episode tag for 'Grace'.**

* * *

He isn't surprised when he opens the door and finds her standing on the doorstep.

But what does surprise him is how she doesn't look like the woman he's come to know.

She's pale and bruised; her eyes wide, almost desperate, as if she's on the verge of snapping and it makes him pause, double-checking what he wants to say.

It turns out he doesn't need to say anything because she quietly sets her duffle on the ground and steps forward into his embrace.

So, he just holds her and waits. He isn't sure if it's five minutes or thirty that passes, but he finds that he doesn't care. He'll be there for as long as she needs because even though her team had called and given him a heads-up, he knows himself that something's different this time.

"You don't seem surprised to see me."

He feels the vibrations against his shoulder, from where her head rests as she speaks, but he can't see her face and he thinks it's deliberate.

"I knew you were coming," he admits carefully.

She pulls back from his embrace and sees her frown, but doesn't give her time to start asking questions.

"Colonel O'Neill called," he says, watching her closely. "Said you'd booked a flight out."

"What did he tell you?"

Mark tilts his head, looks for something in her expression. There's fear and apprehension in her eyes and he shrugs.

"Does it matter?"

"Yes," she says, her voice quiet but strong, and it's the first time a glimmer of the Sam he knows slips through, "it matters."

"He said you were hurt on your last mission and needed some time."

"Oh." He thinks he hears disappointment in her voice, but before he can dwell, she suddenly adds, "Did he say anything else?"

He lets his gaze wander over her quickly before he meets her eye. Aside from the fact that Sam's commanding officer didn't really tell him anything over the phone, he gets the feeling that whatever he says next is the thing that could break the vestige of hope she seems to be clinging to.

"He said he was worried about you – he asked if I'd keep an eye on you for the week."

It seems to be what she needs to hear as he watches something akin to relief flicker in her eyes and he feels some of the tension seep out of her body. Suddenly, Sam's eyes fill with tears and she nods.

"Okay," she whispers, but he isn't quite sure who she's talking to. "Thank you, Mark," she adds as she leans against him again and he squeezes her tight before he gently guides her into his home.

* * *

 **Written for 'Visit Your Relatives Day' (18 May).**

 **I know my timings have been slightly out this week with regards to posting these stories on their respective dates, but it's been a really difficult few days and, given the circumstances, this holiday was especially hard to write.**

 **I'm not going to preach, but if any of you have family or friends you haven't spoken to or seen for a while, please, think about picking up the phone or dropping them a message or paying them a little visit. I know our lives can be busy and hectic, but life is also so short, and time passes by so quickly. However, we should always, always make time for our loves ones and cherish the memories that we have with them.**

 **Thank you all so much for your patience and understanding. Xo**


	140. Sunburn

**Author's Note: Written for 'May Ray Day' (19 May), a day for "enjoying the sun rays May brings as the seasons change."**

* * *

Even though Carter's done the math and knows exactly how long she can work before they need to find shade, he can tell that something is wrong.

He checks his watch. His teammate has another twenty minutes left but suddenly she turns and stumbles. He gets to his feet quickly and grabs a hold of Sam's upper arm just as her knees buckle.

"Easy, Carter," he mumbles.

Her skin is hot. Too hot, even if the planet they're on has two suns. His gaze snaps to her face; her eyes are glassy and she seems disorientated. He eases her down onto the ground but the fact that she's yet to resist his help or utter a word, concerns him.

"Talk to me, Carter," he says as he grabs his canteen and presses it into her hands.

"Sir?"

"Y'alright?"

"I'm... fine. I think."

"What happened?"

"Um," she momentarily closes her eyes and frowns, as if she's trying to remember. "I think I stood up too quickly."

"Are you dizzy?"

There's a beat that passes before Sam answers but it tells him everything she doesn't. He studies her – her face is already a bright shade of red and when he catches sight of her arms, he swears under his breath when it looks like the skin is already starting to blister.

"Carter," he sighs. "You used the cream Fraiser gave us, right?"

"Yes, sir."

He nods, then glances around looking for his radio.

"Drink some water," he adds over his shoulder. "Daniel, Teal'c, come in."

 _"O'Neill."_

"Head back to camp," he orders, pulling a tub of sunscreen from his pack. "Carter's not looking too good. We may need to ship out early."

 _"Understood."_

When he turns back to face his major, he winces, but even as he does his own math, he knows they've already spent enough time in the sun today to try and make their way back to the gate. He'll do whatever it takes to get Carter home if he needs to, but he'd rather not expose her to the sun any more than she already has.

"How are you feeling, Carter? Really?"

"Hot."

It's on the tip of his tongue to make a smartass comment but he stops himself and tries to focus on the situation at hand.

"Do we need to get you back to the SGC?"

She slowly shakes her head, but Jack still isn't convinced, so he sits down on the fallen tree trunk opposite Carter and gestures for her to turn around and face him.

"Drink," he repeats, nodding to the flask in her hand as he opens the tub of cream and reaches for her free hand.

Carefully, he applies the cream to her hand and arm, making sure the worst of the burns are covered and when he's finished, Sam silently switches the flask to her other hand so he can cover her other arm. Again, that fact that she's yet to show any discomfort at how _intimate_ their situation is, rings alarm bells, so he decides that he'll finish this task as quickly as he can and give her an hour. If there's no improvement, he'll take her back to the SGC.

"Alright, Carter. I'm almost done."

He reaches forward and with his left hand, brushes the hair away from her forehead. He can feel the heat radiating off her skin and his frown deepens when Sam hisses as he dots the cream on her forehead, across her cheeks and onto the tip of her nose.

"Sorry," he mumbles, but Sam shakes her head at his apology.

"It's cold," she explains. "But it feels _really_ nice."

His lips twist into a slight smile at the relief he hears in her voice and he gently starts to rub the cream across her skin.

"Does it hurt?"

"Yeah."

"Hopefully this will help."

Sam hums non-committedly as she lets her eyes slip closed, so Jack takes the opportunity to study her. Even though her skin is tinged red, she's still one of the most beautiful sights he's ever laid eyes on and he can't help but grin as he replaces the lid on the tub.

"What are you smiling at?"

His gaze rests back on Sam just as Daniel and Teal'c arrive and he nudges her knee with his.

"I was just thinking about how hot you are, Carter," he smirks as he gets to his feet and leaves her staring after him, wide-eyed and turning a deep shade of red that has absolutely nothing to do with the sunburn.


	141. Time Is Of The Essence

**Author's Note: Written for 'Clinical Trials Day' (20 May). Episode tag for season 5's Desperate Measures.**

* * *

 _She could feel herself struggling against their hold, desperately trying to get away as one of her captors held her ankles and the other held her wrist in one of his hands and a syringe in the other._

 _Then, she felt it. Just a little sting. Right before her blood started to feel like ice in her veins and –  
_

Sam sat up with a gasp and glanced around wildly until her gaze landed on her commanding officer.

"Sir?"

"Ssh Carter," he murmured. "You're OK. You're home. You're safe."

It took a few moments for his words to register and for her to realize that she was in the infirmary at the SGC, with Colonel O'Neill standing by the side of her bed, dressed in gray sweatpants and an old t-shirt. She focused on him as she tried to get her breathing back under control, but his attention was directed elsewhere. She caught the subtle shake of his head and when she followed his gaze, she saw the nurse on duty disappear back into the office.

"Y'alright?"

She turned to find him staring at her, a look of worry in his eyes.

"Yes, sir."

"Nightmare?"

She nodded as she broke the stare.

"Wanna talk about it?"

"Not really."

"Okay," he said softly, nodding once in understanding. He took a step back and Sam stole a glance as he sat down on the bed next to hers and she frowned.

"How's the shoulder?"

"It's fine. Janet said I can leave tomorrow."

"That's good to hear, sir."

They fell into silence and Sam let her gaze fall to her hands entwined in her lap, when she discovered that she was still in her BDUs.

"How did I –"

"You fell asleep in the chair earlier," he offered, gesturing to the chair by the side of his own bed. "Instead of waking you up, Teal'c moved you to the bed."

"Oh."

Sam's frown deepened when the colonel muttered something else under his breath as he picked at a loose thread on the blanket.

"What was that, sir?"

He sighed and met her eye. "I said you should probably still be in the infirmary, anyway."

"I'm fine, sir."

 _"Really?"_ he fired back. "So, waking from a nightmare is a usual occurrence for you?"

She isn't able to hide the flash of hurt at his words, but she doesn't blame him for calling her out on her lie either.

"I'm sorry, Carter," he sighed. "I didn't mean –"

"It's okay," she interrupted. "It was close this time," she added after a beat.

"Yeah," he answered, letting out a long breath. "It was."

"I thought – I was so sure – and then you suddenly appeared at the door and –"

"I should have found you sooner."

"You found me in time."

"I almost didn't."

"But –"

"They almost _killed_ you, Sam. I don't think – if I'd been just a second –"

She pulled her knees up to her chest and let her chin rest on her knee as she studied him. "I'm still here, sir.

"Yes, you are," he murmured.

She held his gaze for a few seconds before he suddenly stood and moved to the side of her bed. Slowly, he reached out with his good arm and let the back of his fingers brush against her hand.

"I'm glad you're still here, Carter."

"Me too, sir."

She smiled softly at him as he gave her a lopsided grin.

"Go back to sleep, Sam," he said. "I'll be here when you wake up."


	142. Patchwork

**Author's Note: Written for 'I Need A Patch For That Day' (21 May). Missing scene for season 7 Heroes.**

 **I'm also pretending that Pete doesn't exist.**

* * *

He knows he needs her to turn around and go home, but he doesn't tell her that. Instead, he silently steps aside, lets her into his home and follows her into his bedroom.

The door closes behind him with a soft click, and the room is thrown into darkness, save for the warm glow coming from the lamp on the bedside unit.

He studies her, just like she studies him, their breathing the only sound filling the space.

"C'mere," he finally whispers.

Without hesitation, she's in his arms as hers slide around his back, her hands clutching at his shoulders and he instinctively buries his face in the curve of her neck.

His lips brush against her skin, leaving a featherlight kiss in their wake and he feels her arms tighten as a tremor runs through her body. Then, there's a beat that passes before Sam pulls back and holds his gaze as one of her hands comes to rest on his chest.

He can feel his heart beating wildly, and he knows she can feel it too when she releases a shaky breath, as if she's finally convinced he is still alive. Her eyes flick down to his lips and back, so he brings his own hands up to cup her face, the pads of his thumbs wiping away the few tears that have escaped.

"Jack," she breathes and his eyes darken at the sound of his name leaving her lips, right before she leans in and kisses him.

Her lips leave a trail of fire from the corner of his mouth, along his jawline, to the hollow of his neck. He feels her tongue flick against his skin, teasing and tasting and one of his hands finds its way to the small of her back and presses her hips against his, but he knows that Sam is the one who is in control.

She slowly divests him of his t-shirt and he stands before her half-dressed. There are fresh cuts and bruises and stitches that mar his skin, but the swath of white bandages – bandages that hide the multitude of his injuries – cover most of his chest and stomach and are in stark contrast to his tanned skin. Suddenly, Sam dips her head and brushes her lips over one of the bruises on his clavicle. He hisses at the contact but when she looks up, he takes her hand and he walks them back towards the bed. It takes them a few moments to settle, but then Sam continues her ministrations, making her way across and down his body, every kiss, every touch, gentle and delicate and more intimate than anything he's experienced before.

It's heady and intoxicating and when a groan escapes him, it interrupts the woman currently straddling him and without warning, she's leaning over him, her face just inches from his. She bites down on her bottom lip and Jack fights against every instinct he has to reach up and leave his own marks on her lips.

Sam doesn't say anything, but he catches the flicker of doubt in her expression. It's almost lost in the sadness and fear that's there too, but he knows the look well; it is one he's had himself. The one that makes him sometimes wonder if the sacrifices and losses they endure really are going to be worth it in the end and right now he's not so sure. He knows she's wondering the same but he can't find the words to tell her that he doesn't have an answer.

All he does know is that he's tired and sore and the haunted look in Sam's eye – the one that he's the cause of because he almost died – is one he never wants to see again. He's been there; when the roles have been reversed. So, he gets it. He really does, and he also gets why the two of them are here now.

His fingers instinctively flex, then tighten, against her hips and it seems to be the reassurance she needs for now, when she leans in and presses her lips to his once more.

* * *

 **I'm not convinced I like this update...**


	143. Small Victories

**Author's Note: Written for 'Maritime Day' (22 May).**

 **Episode tag for season 4 'Small Victories'. It's a tenuous link.**

* * *

"Why do you keep looking at me like that?"

"Like what?"

"Like there's something you want to ask me."

Jack raised a brow at Carter's observation, but didn't answer, choosing to set the bottles of beer on the worktop instead.

After Thor had beamed the three of them back to the SGC earlier that afternoon and they'd briefed Daniel, Major Davis and General Hammond on what had happened, Jack had called for an impromptu barbecue and team night at his house. He glanced outside and saw the other half of his team relaxing on the deck and he couldn't help but grin, because even though he and Teal'c were seconds away from death, Jack felt surprisingly upbeat and alive. It felt good, but also a little reckless; almost as if he didn't yet have complete control over his emotions again. Either that, or he didn't _want_ to keep them under control this evening, he wasn't quite sure.

He let his gaze slide back to Sam as she put the finishing touches on the salad and moved around his kitchen like she belonged there.

He didn't know why he had suddenly started to think of Carter like she belonged to him in _any_ way, but they'd grown closer during their week on P4X-234. Nothing had necessarily happened. Things had just _changed_.

"Is everything okay, sir?"

He pulled himself from his reverie to realize he'd been staring, so he shook his head and twisted the caps off the bottles.

"I'm fine."

Not fully convinced, Sam studied him for a moment longer before she reached for the bowl of salad and turned to leave.

"Actually," he said suddenly, surprising himself. "There was something I wanted to run by you."

She set down the bowl and looked at him expectantly.

"Do you feel guilty?"

She frowned. "Sir?"

"You blew up my ship, Carter. _My_ ship. _Mine!_ "

"Okay," she sighed, although he could see she was trying to hide her amusement. "Firstly, it wasn't _your_ ship. It belonged to the Asgard."

"It was _The O'Neill_."

"Exactly," she nodded. "It was named _after_ you – and it was for the greater good."

"Hmm," he huffed. "You know, I think you're starting to enjoy this just a little too much, Carter."

"What are you talking about?"

"Don't think I've forgotten about that little incident last year when you shot me."

Again, she tried to hide her grin but wasn't successful.

"That wasn't you, sir. It was an alien impersonating you – and I've apologized a hundred times for it since."

"Yes, well," he said glumly, before he suddenly pierced her with a look. "I guess you could be forgiven – since both incidents ended with you saving the world – and me."

The last two words slipped through his lips by mistake, and even though he barely vocalized the thought, the light mood that had been there moments earlier vanished and the slight gasp from Sam let him know that she'd heard him.

"How close was it?"

Her voice was equally as quiet in the otherwise silent kitchen and he met her gaze slowly; her bright blue eyes wide and tinged with apprehension and fear, as if she was afraid of his answer because she already knew what he was going to say.

"I asked Daniel," she added, "but he wouldn't tell me."

He winced. "It was close."

"I'm glad we managed to save you in time."

"Me too, Carter," he murmured. "Me too. I don't think I've properly thanked you yet," he added, needing to change the subject. "Thanks for saving my ass, Sam."

"It was my pleasure."

A light blush appeared on Sam's face at her response, and he couldn't help but grin at her sudden discomfort.

"Someday, I'll make it up to you."

"The next time we've to save the planet?"

Suddenly, Jack found the beer bottles before him fascinating.

"Actually," he said, clearing his throat awkwardly as he picked at one of the labels. "I was thinking more along the lines of when there's no more danger to be found."

He held his breath and waited.

"Is that a promise?"

"If you want it to be."

He forced himself to meet Sam's gaze and caught the moment when she came to a decision, a small smile gracing her lips.

"Okay."

"Yeah?"

"Yes," she nodded as she stepped forward to grab the salad bowl. She was halfway out of the kitchen when she hesitated and turned to face him.

"Someday… we'll go fishing," she said casually, her smile widening, before she disappeared out of his sight and Jack couldn't help but grin.

He couldn't wait for that _someday_.


	144. Beginner's Luck

**Author's Note: Written for 'Lucky Penny Day' (23 May). Alternate reality.**

* * *

Jack slipped his hand out of his pocket, fingers clasped around the penny Charlie had found at the end of the driveway that morning, and he smiled fondly as he recalled his son's singing.

 _See a penny pick it up; all day long you'll have good luck._

He studied the coin and shook his head. He wouldn't necessarily say he was the superstitious type, but if his little boy handed him a penny and confidently told him he was going to receive some good luck today, Jack was more than happy to believe him.

And so far, as the first day in a new job went, it hadn't been too bad. Although the realization that General Jack O'Neill was now in charge of one of the most top-secret projects on the planet sat a little uneasily with him. This command was supposed to be a quiet stop before he retired from the Air Force for good, yet he couldn't shake the feeling that it was going to be anything but.

A knock on his office door pulled him from his thoughts and he quickly shoved the penny back into his pocket.

"Come in."

The door opened to reveal Colonel George Hammond.

"Jack," he greeted warmly. "Your next meeting is due to begin in five minutes."

Jack bit back a sigh. The endless meetings – whilst mandatory so he knew his staff and exactly who he would be working with over the next couple of years – was probably the only downside to his day so far.

"Who is it?"

"Doctor Carter. Head of your new science department."

This time Jack did sigh – and pointedly chose to ignore the smile on his second-in-command's face.

"A scientist, George? Really?"

"I think you'll get on well."

"I'm sure we will," he replied with a grimace. "What do I need to know?"

"Doctor Sam Carter. Field of expertise is astrophysics and –"

Jack felt his eyes glaze over and it must have shown in his expression when George hesitated, right before he chuckled.

"Carter's going to be our expert on the Stargate."

"Ah. I hope he isn't going to bore me with technobabble."

Again, George chuckled.

"And he'll probably be late to the meeting," Jack continued.

"Actually," he interrupted, "the doctor is already here."

Jack looked surprised at the news.

"Well, might as well get this over with," he muttered a moment later as he got to his feet.

Following George out of his office, Jack was halfway through sending up a silent prayer that the meeting wouldn't last long when his attention fell on the woman standing at the far side of the briefing room table. He froze.

"Uh... George?"

"General Jack O'Neill," he said. "This is Doctor Sam Carter. Doctor Carter, General O'Neill."

Instinctively, Sam stepped forward and Jack reached out to shake her hand as he subtly, but appreciatively, let his gaze roam over the good doctor. She was dressed in a skirt suit that hid a pair of legs that seemed to go on forever, while her shoulder-length blonde hair, bright blue eyes and the smile that played around her lips all helped make her the most beautiful woman Jack had ever laid eyes on.

"You're Sam?" He asked, disbelief evident in his voice and he'd swear that she tried to hide her amusement.

"Yes, sir," she nodded. "As in, _Samantha_ Carter."

The sound of someone clearing their throat caught his attention before he could answer and he looked to his right to find George looking at him curiously. With a quick nod, Jack dismissed him, leaving him alone with Sam – and he was suddenly at a loss for what to say or do. There was just something about her that intrigued and unsettled him in equal measure; the way she made him feel stirrings of feelings he hadn't felt in a long time.

He rocked back on his heels and casually glanced around in an effort to try and hide his discomfort when Sam smiled and everything else around him seemed to disappear.

"So," she offered lightly. "Are you waiting for me to start the meeting, or are you just trying to delay listening to my technobabble?"

His gaze snapped back to hers as her smile widened, but he also caught the glint of a challenge in her eye.

"Uh," he winced, running a hand across the back of his neck, "you, ah, heard that comment?"

"Hm," she hummed, yet Jack got the impression she wasn't overly annoyed.

Movement behind Sam caught his attention and he watched as the guards standing at the far end of the room changed shift. For a reason he couldn't explain, he suddenly realized that whatever conversation the two of them were about to have, he didn't want anyone else to hear. Sure, he needed to know the doctor better as she would be under his command, but a part of him wanted to get to know _her_ , without others being privy to the interaction.

"Why don't we continue this meeting in my office?"

Her eyes widened slightly at his question but she quickly covered her surprise and nodded. Out of habit, he shoved a hand into his pocket and remembered the penny he'd put back there earlier.

"After you, Samantha."

She smiled as she reached him and Jack thought he saw the hint of a blush appear on her face. Idly, he ran his thumb over the smooth surface of the coin and grinned. He'd have to thank Charlie when he got home because if he could get Samantha to smile at him like that every day, he'd feel like the luckiest guy on the planet.

* * *

 **I'm so sorry this is late. One of the most stressful days of my life.  
**


	145. Crowning Glory

**Author's Note: Written for 'Tiara Day' (24 May). Set post-series.**

* * *

Jack folded his arms across his chest and smiled as he watched Sam and Grace as they sat on the floor of their daughter's bedroom.

They were surrounded by toys; dolls and teddy bears placed in a circle around them and every so often, Grace would grab one of them, stand them up and pretend they were alive. He loved his daughter's imagination – the way she created stories and games and just had fun.

His smile widened as she suddenly got to her feet. She was wearing her favorite yellow dress – the one with too many layers and a tutu – but Grace said it was a princess dress, and Jack would be the first to admit that his daughter was definitely a princess in his eyes.

When Grace turned, she froze at the sight of him standing in the doorway only for a massive grin to break out on her face.

"Daddy!"

Jack caught her easily as she ran and jumped into his arms and he chuckled as she quickly started to regale him of what game they were playing. He walked towards his wife and set Grace on the ground before he leaned down and dropped a kiss to Sam's lips.

He pulled back slightly, let his gaze roam over her face and grinned.

"You look good," he murmured.

He caught the hint of confusion on Sam's face at his words but before she could say anything, he glanced towards the top of her head and raised an eyebrow.

She reached up and a deep blush quickly crept up her neck and face. "Oh," she whispered. "I forgot I was wearing that."

His grin widened. He'd seen his wife in a number of outfits and adornments over the years but he watched her now, proudly wearing one of their daughter's plastic tiaras as she pretended to drink tea from an empty cup, the sight was quickly becoming one of his favorites.

* * *

 **Thanks for sticking with this series – and with me – right now.**

 **To the guest reviewer who said they didn't enjoy the previous chapter, I'm sorry. Was there something in particular you didn't like, so I can keep it in mind for future updates? I hope I can deliver better chapters in the coming days.**


	146. Throw In The Towel

**Author's Note: Written for 'Towel Day' (25 May).**

 **Apologies this is a couple of days late; the site wouldn't let me upload documents for some reason.**

 **Set after the events of Threads, with a throwback mention to season 1 'The Broca Divide'.**

* * *

She's pretty sure that over the course of last night and the early hours of this morning, she's lost count as to the ways Jack O'Neill can leave her speechless.

But then again, she's occasionally known to be wrong.

Sam isn't even ashamed to say she's gaping at the sight before her. When the door to the ensuite opens and the steam swirls and swells into her bedroom and he confidently emerges from its billows – barefoot and bare chested.

There's a towel wrapped low and tight around his waist and Sam is suddenly hit with memories from their first year together on SG-1 when the virus she'd contracted from The Touched made her jump him in the locker room. Even after all these years, she doesn't remember the particulars of that whole incident, but she does remember the feel of the then-colonel's body against hers and the way his lips had pressed briefly against the side of her neck.

Her body hums at the recollection and a hungry look appears in her eyes as he approaches the bed.

With a second, smaller towel, he runs it over his hair and his gaze finally meets hers.

"What?" he asks casually, a slight smile shaping his lips.

"Nothing," she shrugs, before she kicks the bed covers back and crawls towards him, his eyes tracking her every move. "I was just... thinking."

"There's a surprise."

She swats playfully at him for his retort and lets her arms loop around his neck as his automatically fall to her waist.

"Whatcha thinking about?"

"Our early days of the Program."

"Any one in particular?" He asks, his brow furrowing slightly in confusion.

Slowly, she lets her hands trail along his chest and across his stomach until her fingers tease the area where skin and towel meet. Leaning forward, her lips brushing his, she smirks as she suddenly pulls on the towel and whispers, "I want you." **  
**


	147. Flight School

**Author's Note: Written for 'Paper Airplane Day' (26 May). AU.**

* * *

Jack glanced at his watch and grimaced as he made his way along the corridor. Even though he'd already rang ahead to explain, the situation at the base had lasted longer than he expected and he was now an hour and a half late picking Charlie up from school.

As he approached the classroom, he heard voices coming from inside and couldn't help but smile when Charlie's laughter filled the air.

He stood in the doorway but decided not to go in when he saw his son and a woman he assumed to be Charlie's teacher at the far side of the room, huddled over a desk. He couldn't see her face, but as she pointed every few seconds and spoke quietly, he observed how comfortable and happy his little boy was in her presence as he worked.

"That looks great, Charlie," she said encouragingly. "So, you need to make sure it's folded here like this," she pointed, "and then the front of it must be folded that way, and... it looks pretty perfect."

Suddenly, Charlie grinned and looked up at her. "Can we test it?"

She straightened and it gave Jack an opportunity to finally see her – and he felt his heart stop. She was stunning; the way her blonde hair fell loosely around her shoulders and framed her face, and the way her eyes, even from this distance, were the most striking shade of blue he'd ever seen. Then, she'd smiled at his son and something inside him shifted. It made his stomach somersault like he was back in an F-16 and gave him a buzz that he hadn't felt in a long time.

He swallowed hard at the sudden rush of emotions and was just about to interrupt the pair when he heard Charlie count down from three, and Jack looked up to see a paper airplane travel effortlessly through the air, across the classroom and land squarely at his feet. Impressed, he let out a low whistle before he reached down to pick up the plane and noticed its advanced design and crisp, neat folds.

"Nice," he said, grinning as Charlie ran to him.

"Dad! Miss Carter taught me how to fly a plane."

He chuckled at his son's enthusiasm and glanced over towards the mysterious Miss Carter who was now watching him curiously.

"Miss Carter," he nodded in greeting. "I didn't realize aerodynamics was part of the curriculum these days."

She smirked at his comment. "Someone's got to make science fun for the kids."

He chuckled lightly and reached out to shake her hand.

"It's nice to meet you Mr O'Neill."

"Yeah, about that," he said, pulling a face. "I owe you an apology."

"You're fine; Charlie said you work for the Air Force. I know how it can be."

He frowned and received a knowing smile in return.

"Military brat."

"Ah," he nodded before they fell into a comfortable silence. It was only when Jack realized he was staring, that he cleared his throat and turned to Charlie. "Why don't you grab your gear, kiddo?"

They watched him run to the other side of the class and Jack took a step closer.

"Seriously though," he said. "Thanks for looking after him. My meeting lasted longer than I thought – and wanted it to," he said with a roll of his eyes. "My ex-wife usually collects Charlie, but –"

"Like I said," she politely interrupted, looking back at him. "It wasn't a problem. I tend to work late most weekdays, so anytime you – or his mom – are running late, he's welcome to stay here."

"You best not let Charlie hear you say that," he smirked. "Or he'll never want to leave. He looked like he was having fun – can't say I blame him," he added as an afterthought.

"Oh."

He glanced up to see his comment had reached her ears and she blushed. Her reaction piqued his interest, but before he could say anything else, his son appeared by his side.

"Well, we should probably go."

"It was nice to finally meet you Mr O'Neill," she smiled.

"You too, Miss Carter," he said. "And it's Jack."

She nodded slowly and then her smile widened. "You can call me Sam."

"Sam," he repeated softly, enjoying the way her name fell from his lips. "Thanks again."

He guided Charlie towards the door, then paused and turned back, suddenly reluctant to leave.

"What's with the airplane?"

She ducked her chin but Jack caught the hint of a smile before she met his eye. "We're studying motion and force in class," she explained, "but Charlie was having trouble understanding part of his homework. He said you'd flown planes before, so it seemed like a good way to show him how it all comes together."

"Did you teach him how to fold it that way?"

"I did."

"Huh."

"What?"

"Think you could show me how to do that sometime?"

"Wh–"

"It's a skill that's always alluded me," he shrugged as casually as he could muster, "but it could come in handy the next time one of my meetings runs late."

"I don't know," she quipped, amusement tinging her words. "I would hate to get you into trouble."

"Nah," he dismissed with a wave of his hand. "Besides, I reckon it'd be worth it."

He held his breath and waited as Sam's gaze snapped to his in surprise. She briefly glanced at Charlie who was busy studying the paper plane in his hand.

"What do you say?"

She studied him closely and Jack could see her indecision.

"I'll be a model student."

The words had left him before he could stop them, but when he saw Sam's lips twitch, he felt himself start to grin.

"I guess I could... hold an evening class," she eventually answered.

"Yeah?"

"I'm free tomorrow," she nodded. "My details are on the staff directory list Charlie received at the start of term."

"OK," he answered. "I'll call you."

With that, he took Charlie's hand and started to walk away. He felt Sam's gaze on him and whilst he was really looking forward to seeing her again tomorrow night, he wondered just how he'd managed to make himself a date with his son's elementary school teacher.

* * *

 **I know many of you have said you don't mind waiting for updates, which I really appreciate, but I do feel bad when I don't get to post these in time.  
** **  
** **This one was written on its respective day, but my attention has been elsewhere these past couple of days, so I'm sorry if this chapter (and the next couple of chapters, suck).**


	148. Sticking Point

**Author's Note: Written for 'Cellophane Tape Day' (27 May). Set after season 8, Threads.**

* * *

"O'Neill."

"Hi, sir."

"Carter, everything okay?"

"Hm," she answered lightly. "I have a question."

"What makes you think I have the answer?"

"Something just tells me you do."

He could virtually hear her smiling over the phone and he couldn't help but grin himself. He threw his pen onto the desk and leaned back in his chair.

"OK. Try me."

"Care to explain why my computer is covered in Scotch tape?"

"Ah," he said. "That was Daniel's idea."

"Really?"

"Fine," he sighed. "It was Teal'c's."

He heard her snort and he racked it up as another point in his favor, so he added, "You know Teal'c. He's an old romantic at heart."

"So, the message that's currently stuck to the screen – was that also his idea?"

"That depends."

"On?"

"Did you think it was romantic?"

"What, _'My place. 2000 hours.'?_ Yeah, it's real romantic, Jack."

Her laugh traveled over the line but when it was followed by silence, he realized she was waiting on an answer – only the words wouldn't come because all he could think about was how –

"Sir? Are you still there?"

"Yeah," he mumbled. "I'm – I'm here."

"Are you okay?"

"You called me Jack."

"I – what?"

"Just there – when you read the note. You called me Jack."

"I did?"

"You did."

"Oh."

"You should try it more often. You know, if you want?"

"I think I'd like that," she answered after a beat.

"So..." Jack hedged a few moments later when it became clear Sam wasn't going to say anything else. "You never answered my question."

"What question?"

"The note."

"Oh," she chuckled lightly before she turned serious. "Well, it's not exactly 'roses are red', but –"

"But you hate roses."

"Yeah," she admitted, "I do."

"Sam, I –"

"It's you," she interrupted quickly. "The message I mean. It's just... _you._ "

He frowned in uncertainty. "And that's a good thing?"

"It's perfect," she whispered.

"Sweet," he nodded, even though Sam couldn't see him. "So, I'll see you later?"

"2000 hours?"

"Sounds... perfect."

"Yes," she answered without hesitation. "It does."


	149. Grilled

**Author's Note: Written for 'Hamburger Day' (28 May). Missing scene for Threads. _Again._**

* * *

Jack flipped the burgers on the grill one final time just as he heard someone step onto the deck. He didn't say anything, but nodded his thanks when they handed him a fresh beer.

"So," they started after a few moments of silence. "You and Sam, huh?"

He took a drink as he thought over what he should say, only to decide to go for the truth. "It's time."

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw his companion nod.

"It is," they agreed. "But for a while there... I didn't think you were going to make it."

"Yeah," Jack sighed as he set down his beer and grabbed a plate. "Neither did I."

"Would you honestly have let her marry Pete?"

"Does it really matter now?"

"I guess not," they conceded. "What matters is what happens next."

Jack nodded as he piled the hamburgers onto the plate before handing it to Daniel. "Set those on the table, would ya?"

When his hands were free, he switched off the grill and grabbed the hamburger buns and his beer.

"I'm happy for you, you know," Daniel said quietly as he sat down.

Finally, Jack met his friend's gaze as he took the seat to his left and smiled. "I know."

Just then, the sound of Sam's laughter floated outside, closely followed by the deep rumblings of Teal'c, so Jack gestured for Daniel to get started while there was still food on the table.

"You deserve this," he mumbled as he reached for the salad. "You both do. Whatever happens – you'll make it work."

"You sound pretty confident."

"It's you and Sam," he shrugged. "What's meant to be always finds a way."

A lump formed in Jack's throat at the genuine emotion behind Daniel's answer and he found himself unable to speak. Instead, he reached out and squeezed his shoulder affectionately and as Sam and Teal'c reached the table and took their seats, Jack couldn't help but smile.

He knew it wouldn't be easy as he was going to Washington and Sam was going to Nevada, but he had absolutely no doubt that it was going to be worth every second because he could finally call her his.


	150. Cool-Headed

**Author's Note: Written for 'Put A Pillow On Your Fridge Day' (29 May).**

* * *

Sam knocked gently on the door as she pushed it open and stepped inside the house. "Sir?"

When there was no answer, she glanced into the living room but found it empty, so decided to make her way towards the bedroom.

"Sir?"

The door was slightly ajar, but the room was in darkness. She pushed it open a little further and it took a few seconds for her sight to adjust before she found her commanding officer. He was lying on his back on the bed with an arm flung over his face. She stepped into the room.

"Sir," she said quietly. "Are you okay?"

Silence followed her question so she made her way around to the far side of the bed and gently touched his wrist.

"Colonel?"

He jumped at her touch, then cursed.

"Carter?"

She winced at how ill he sounded.

"Yes, sir," she said, stepping closer.

"Why're here?"

"Janet called me," she answered, her voice lowering when she caught his grimace. "She said you were sick and asked me to check in on you until she can get here."

"M'fine."

"You look like somebody who is fine," she quipped. "Headache?"

"Migraine," he sighed.

She gave him a sympathetic smile, even though he was yet to move his arm or open his eyes.

"Have you taken anything for the pain?"

"Mm. While 'go."

Sam nodded and realizing she was still holding onto his wrist, she gave it a squeeze.

"Get some rest, sir," she whispered.

"Goin' so soon?"

"No," she said. "I'll be in the living room."

"You don't... need to stay. I'm… fine."

She pressed her lips together in an attempt to hide her smile. "It's alright, sir. I have some work I can do."

"'kay."

With a roll of the eyes, she moved away from the bed. She was halfway out of the room when she spotted one of the colonel's pillows lying on the floor. She didn't give it a second thought as she lifted it and took it with her.

* * *

She had checked in on her commanding officer every fifteen minutes, but it took two hours before she heard any noise come from down the hallway.

Deciding to go and check on him before he managed to move too far on his own in case he still wasn't feeling well, she went into the kitchen, grabbed his pillow and headed towards his room.

"Sir?"

"Yeah."

"How're you feeling?"

"Like crap."

She moved to his side and smiled softly as a pair of brown eyes stared up at her.

"At least I can see your eyes now," she said absently. "That's got to be an improvement."

"Hm," he said, letting them drift closed. "Still feel like crap though."

"I know," she placated. "Here, maybe this will help," she offered as she knelt on the free side of the bed, carefully lifted his head and put it onto the pillow she'd retrieved from the kitchen.

"S'cold."

"Yes, sir."

"What'd you do?"

"Nothing, sir," she smiled. "Just a little trick I remember my mom used to do whenever Mark or I was sick."

"Why's my pillow cold?"

"I put it in your refrigerator."

"You – huh?"

"It's to keep you cool and help with headaches. It always worked for me," she shrugged.

"Feels nice."

"That's good, sir."

Sam studied him as his eyes remained closed. He did look slightly better than he had earlier, but there was still a slight crease between his brows and she could see the pain in his expression. Without thinking, she reached out to place a hand on the pillow and let her thumb gently run back and forth across his forehead.

"S'nice," he mumbled a few moments later. "Thanks, Carter."

"You're welcome, sir," she whispered. "You should get some more rest."

"Don't go," he added as he leaned slightly into her touch. "It's helping."

She hesitated for a moment then nodded.

"Okay," she promised, before she settled further onto the bed and tried not to dwell on the colonel's half-smile when she added, "I'll be right here if you need me."

* * *

 **I have been writing this past week, I promise.**


	151. Minted

**Author's Note: Written for 'Mint Julep Day' (30 May). Episode tag for seaon 4 'Divide And Conquer'.**

* * *

"Do you want to talk about it?"

She studies the mint julep Janet sets in front of her before she lifts it to her lips.

"No."

"It might help."

"I think you heard everything I needed to say earlier."

"Yes," Janet agrees slowly, "but that was in my capacity as your doctor. I'm talking about now – as your friend."

Setting the glass down on the table, Sam sighs. "Janet –"

"You once told me that it wasn't a problem."

"I know."

"But it clearly is."

She hears the question behind the statement. "Maybe. I don't know," she shrugs as she takes another drink.

"Sam?"

"It's... confusing."

"Your feelings for the colonel?"

"I don't know, Janet!"

The sound of Sam slamming the glass down is the only noise that breaks the silence that falls and she watches as some of the liquid spills over the edge of the glass.

"I just – it's not –" she sighs, then finally meets her friend's sympathetic gaze. "I don't know how I feel."

She waits as Janet sits in the chair opposite.

"Martouf is dead and I feel guilty because I killed him, but I'm also experiencing Jolinar's feelings. She loved him, Janet. They were soulmates and I –"

"Sam –"

"– have all these emotions that aren't mine, but there are some that are mine, and –"

 _"Sam –"_ _  
_  
"– then there's my feelings for –"

She stops abruptly at what she was about to say and focuses on the glass of alcohol.

"Sam, I need you to calm down," Janet says softly. "It'll be okay."

She shakes her head and tries to ignore the frown on Janet's face.

"Have you spoken to Colonel O'Neill?"

"No. Not really," she amends, thinking back to her suggestion of _none of this has to leave this room_ and she wants to scream or cry out in frustration. She knows – _knows_ – it's the right thing to do, but she also can't help but think it feels _wrong_.

"So, what are you going to do?"

Glancing up, Sam smiles sadly as she swirls the remaining liquid around in the glass before she downs it.

"Nothing," she whispers.


	152. The Gift That Keeps On Giving

**Author's Note: Written for 'Macaroon Day' (31 May). Tiny missing scene for Line In The Sand.**

* * *

Jack can't hide his amusement as he watches Sam scrunch her nose up in disgust at the brown paper bag in her hands before she reseals it and sets it on the bed.

"I thought Teal'c offered to eat those yesterday," he says from his position in the doorway.

"He did," Sam replies through gritted teeth. "This is a fresh batch Mitchell made last night."

With a soft chuckle, Jack makes his way into the infirmary and stops at the foot of Sam's bed.

"Why's he still bringing you macaroons when he knows you don't like them?"

"Because he knows Teal'c does."

He's pretty sure his confusion must show because Sam gives him a small smile before she shrugs.

"Apparently Cam finds it easier to give them to me so I can give them to Teal'c, rather than Cam giving them to Teal'c himself. He said it's 'less weird this way'," she finishes, drawing air quotes around Mitchell's reasoning.

"That sounds... weird – and confusing," he adds for good measure.

He catches Sam's half-hearted nod before his smirk returns.

"It was nice of the guy to get you a gift."

"Yeah, I know," she sighs. She eyes the bag one more time before she lets her gaze slide across to Jack. "Speaking of gifts," she says lightly, a glint appearing in her eyes. "Vala dropped by earlier. Said you'd be bringing me a gift all of your own."

Jack's amusement fades at Sam's words and he frowns. "How'd she find out?"

"It's Vala," she replies with a pointed look.

"Hm."

"So?"

"So?"

"So," Sam urges. "What'd you get me?"

"Ah. Well, I don't have anything for you _per se_ , but –"

"Jack?"

His eyebrows rise in surprise at the use of his first name on base, but he can't help grinning.

"The doc's have cleared you to go home."

He waits and watches as her eyes light up. "Really?"

"Really," he nods, taking a step closer to the bed. "But there are a couple of conditions."

The sparkle in her eyes dims slightly, but she's still eager to finally leave the infirmary. "What are they?"

"You have to rest – that means absolutely _no_ work."

"Fine," she shrugs, again surprising Jack. "What else?"

"You need someone to stay with you."

"That's also fine. The guys can –"

"Nuh uh," he interrupts, waving a finger in the air. " _I_ can stay with you."

"You?" she frowns. "But that means –"

"That's right, Carter," he smirks as he steps up to her side. "Your gift is the gift of _me._ Or rather, my company, you know, since you have to rest," he says, waggling his brow as she blushes.

"Jack?" Sam says quietly a moment later as she hooks her pinky finger around his and grins up at him.

"Yeah?"

"Shut up and take me home."

* * *

 **And so ends the bizarre holidays for May… even if I'm late in posting this.**


	153. Say Something

**Author's Note: Written for 'Say Something Nice Day' (1 June). Episode tag for season 1 'Children Of The Gods'.**

* * *

Jack hesitates as he steps off the elevator, suddenly questioning his motives for being here. It seemed like a good idea when he'd been wandering the corridors on Level 25. Maybe he should just turn around and head home like he originally planned.

He rolls his eyes at the ridiculousness of the situation and continues towards his intended destination, only to stop just around the corner when he hears a thud followed by a muffled curse. He strains to hear what is being uttered but he manages to catch the words 'reproductive organs', 'idiot' and 'crap', but it's only when a passing airman gives him a strange look, however, that he realizes he's standing outside Captain Carter's lab with a stupid smirk on his face.

He masks his amusement and strides into her lab, only to pause in the doorway and observe his newest teammate. Her back is to him so she hasn't heard him arrive, and he can't help but notice that she's changed back into her dress blues – minus the jacket – and his gaze involuntarily travels up and down her body.

As the sound of incoherent mumbling finally reaches his ears, he discovers he's been staring at her legs – but the captain still doesn't know he's there.

"Captain Carter."

Jack winces as she twirls around at breakneck speed, her surprise at his presence evident and she snaps to attention – while he resists the urge to roll his eyes. Instead, he steps into her lab and waves off her salute.

"What'd I tell you about that?"

"Sorry, sir," she grimaces. "It'll not happen again, sir."

This time he does roll his eyes.

"Cut back on the 'sir', as well, would ya?"

"Yes, si–" She stops abruptly and, at his disapproving look, gives him a sheepish smile.

They fall silent and Jack glances around the lab awkwardly. For some reason he hasn't quite yet deciphered, he had planned to drop in and see Sam, but now that he's actually in her lab, he feels a little foolish. His hesitation must show because when she speaks, she's looking at him in concern.

"Is everything okay?"

"Ah, yeah," he replies, not even convincing himself with the answer, and he exhales loudly, puffing out his cheeks. He notices her computer is on and points at the screen. "How's the mission report coming along?"

"Good, thank you, sir. In fact, I've actually submitted it to General Hammond already."

"Now why doesn't that surprise me," he quips and catches the flash of fire in the captain's eyes before he realizes how his comment sounds.

"With all due respect –"

"Captain," he interrupts with a sigh, "I didn't mean anything by my comment. I just… pretty much figured you'd have your report in ASAP."

"Oh."

He watches as her gaze drops to her hands, and she chews on her bottom lip. After a moment, she continues. "I should apologize, colonel."

"I said I didn't mean anything by it, Carter."

"No," she says as drags her eyes up to his. "I should apologize for my behavior yesterday during the briefing." She takes a deep breath. "It was completely unprofessional conduct towards you as my commanding officer and I understand if you want to lodge a formal complaint with your superiors."

Her gaze never wavers and as Jack studies her closely, he can't help but frown in confusion. "What?"

"Yesterday. When I – ah – referred to… my reproductive organs."

He tries and fails to hide his smirk as he recalls Sam's speech and his amusement only intensifies as a deep blush spreads across her face.

"Yes, well," he says lightly. "It probably wasn't your shining moment – but it did make the briefing memorable."

"It wasn't exactly for the right reasons though, sir," she argues. "It's just –"

"Sam," he cuts in. "I heard what happened with General West."

After the mission, Jack had decided to do a little investigating of his own and discovered that Carter was telling the truth. She _had_ been working on the gate for two years before he and Daniel had gone to Abydos. So, technically, she should have joined them, and it had almost happened. Except for the fact that when the captain had arrived at the SGC on the morning of the mission, West let his chauvinistic and old-fashioned attitude dictate his orders and relayed a message that she was no longer needed – and it was purely because Sam was a woman.

"West was a two-star idiot for not letting you go on that mission."

His words seem to surprise her and she smiles.

"Thank you, sir. That means a lot."

"For the record," he adds, not registering her praise, "I'm not like him."

He stands unflinching as Sam observes him closely, as if she's trying to decide if he is telling the truth. He knows his expression is unreadable – that's just the way he is – but he sees the moment she makes her decision.

"Thank you."

They fall silent as they hold each other's gaze and when they remain that way for just a second too long, Jack clears his throat.

"Well, I'll let you get back to… whatever it was you were doing," he says, gesturing to the range of items on the lab bench.

"Have a good evening, colonel."

He smiles slightly and nods.

"You too, Carter, and make sure you go home. I don't want to hear about you working through the night… because something tells me you make a habit of that."

She ducks her chin and laughs softly, missing the look of pleasant surprise that crosses his face as he turns to leave her lab. He stops on the threshold and turns back.

"Oh, and Captain?"

"Yes, sir?"

"You know I'm going to take you up on the arm wrestling, right?"

"I look forward to it," she grins.

"So do I. See you tomorrow, Sam," he replies, before he disappears and leaves a blushing Captain Carter staring after him.


	154. Rocky Road

**Author's Note: Written for 'Rocky Road Day' (2 June). AU.**

* * *

Jack kept a firm hand on Charlie's shoulder as they entered the ice-cream shop. Out of habit, he cast a quick glance around to find a couple of families sitting in the booths at the far side of the shop, and a small group of students in another.

"Okay, kiddo," he said as he guided him towards the counter. "What are we going to try this evening?"

When he didn't receive an answer, Jack let his gaze fall to Charlie and he couldn't help but smile as his son stared wide-eyed at the selection of ice creams on display, his hands splayed across the screen and his nose virtually pressed against the surface of the glass as well.

"Can I help you?"

Jack looked up to see a young woman standing on the other side of counter and the first thought he had was that she was pretty. _Very pretty._

"Uh," he tried, then grimaced at how pathetic he sounded, so he turned his attention back to his little boy. "Charlie, you ready to order?"

When he still didn't answer, Jack heard the woman chuckle softly and he gave her a half-smile. "Sorry."

"Don't apologize," she smiled before she made her way around the counter. "There's a lot to choose from," she said as she crouched down beside Charlie. "Do you have a favorite?"

"Strawberry."

"That's my favorite too," she smiled, "so I always make sure there's lots of it around, but if you want to try something different – and just as tasty – today we have cotton candy."

Suddenly, Charlie turned towards her and grinned. "I want to try that one!"

"Alright," she said as she got to her feet and made her way behind the counter again, still smiling. "That was easy. What about you?" She asked, turning her attention to Jack.

"Are you the owner?"

"I am indeed," she replied, her smile widening as she proudly glanced around.

"Then what do you recommend?"

She considered him for a moment before she answered. "You look like a rocky road kind of guy."

Despite wanting to remain nonchalant, Jack smirked. "You're good at this."

She laughed and Jack noticed the faint blush on her cheeks, as she looked away. "I'll be right back."

His gaze followed her as she moved to the far end of the counter to get their ice creams. Then, unwittingly, he found _himself_ following her.

"So, you're new here?"

"Yeah," she nodded, not meeting his eye. "I moved to the Springs about six weeks ago, and opened up the store four weeks ago yesterday."

"How are you finding life in the Springs?"

"It's quiet," she said, "but in a good way. Washington… it was just too much, you know?"

"Yeah," he nodded absently. "I have to say I'm surprised though."

At this, she finally looked at him. "What?"

"I didn't think there'd be a rush for ice cream in Colorado Springs?"

"You'd be surprised," she laughed. "Some of the officers over at Cheyenne Mountain are already turning out to be my best customers."

"Really?"

"Yeah."

Something in his expression must sneak through, because she studied him curiously for a moment before she went back to the ice cream. "Do you know someone that works there?"

"Probably," he sighed. " _I_ work there."

"Oh. So, you're military?"

"Colonel Jack O'Neill," he nodded, then without thinking, reached a hand out over the counter.

"Well, Jack," she said as she accepted his handshake and he tried not to focus on how the combination of his name leaving her lips and the smile she gave him filled him with a warmth he'd long since forgotten about. "I'm Sam."

"So, Sam, these customers of yours," he said and hoped he sounded casual, "would one of them be called Murray?"

Her laugh told him everything he needed to know and he shook his head. "Let me guess –he was with a guy named Daniel."

"He was indeed."

"Sneaky bastards," he muttered under his breath.

"How do you know them?"

"We're on the same team," he offered and at Sam's questioning look, he shrugged. "It's a unique set-up over at Cheyenne."

"I see."

She gestured to her right and Jack, again, followed. He stopped opposite her as she set two tubs of ice cream onto the counter top.

"One cotton candy and one rocky road."

"Thanks. What do I owe you?"

"This one's on me."

"I can't –"

"It's fine," she said, waving off his protest. "But when you see Daniel… tell him that he owes me one."

He wanted to ask her exactly what she meant by her statement, but then he caught the appreciative look in her eye as she smiled at him. He didn't know what kind of deal Sam had in mind, but if it meant he got to know her better, he was going to make damn sure that his friend lived up to his end of the bargain.


	155. A Repeated Mistake

**Author's Note: Written for 'Repeat Day' (3 June), a day to "seek out activities and experiences you love so much, that you want to do them over and over again".**

 **I've flipped the holiday on its head for this chapter, and dealing with the aftermath of 'Need', when Jack, Sam and Teal'c were trapped in the mine, doing the same thing over and over again, while Daniel was swanning around.**

* * *

 _You've never really known what love is, have you?_

 _Now, you see, the Daniel I know would never say that._

Sam resisted the urge to slam her fist down onto the worktop. Instead, she opened the refrigerator, lifted a bottle of wine and turned, swiping a glass from the shelf as she walked out of the kitchen.

She sighed as she settled onto the small couch in her front room. She knew she shouldn't be mad at Daniel for what he said; he hadn't been in his right mind when he'd said those words, but ever since he had come through his withdrawal, he had done nothing _but_ apologize for his comment.

Sam had insisted that everything was fine – she knew her friend hadn't meant what he said and that it hadn't annoyed her. Yet the fact that she was still festering over his claim two days later, said otherwise.

 _Maybe it's because you know he's right,_ the little voice in her head piped up.

Quickly dismissing the notion, Sam poured herself a large glass of wine. She had just taken her first sip when the doorbell rang.

"Sir!"

"Carter," he greeted, as he scratched the back of his neck.

He seemed apprehensive and Sam's mind kicked into overdrive as she thought of all the reasons as to why her commanding officer would be standing on her front porch, late at night.

"Is everything okay, colonel? Is there an emergency at the base or –"

"Hmm? Oh! No. I was just... in the neighborhood."

The lack of conviction behind his excuse had Sam looking bemused.

"Can I come in?"

She stepped aside but they both stood awkwardly in the hallway for a couple of seconds before Sam remembered she needed to move first – it was her home after all.

"Uh... come on in, sir," she said, leading him down the hall.

Stepping inside, she turned and caught her CO giving it a quick onceover and she realized this was the first time he had been in her house.

"Nice place you've got. Cosy," he added, as he shoved his hands into the pockets of his leather jacket.

"Thank you, sir," she answered awkwardly. "Can I get you a drink?"

"Whatever you're having is good."

Sam smiled slightly imagining the expression on his face if she was to hand him a glass of red wine.

"I'll get you a beer. I was in the front room if you want to..." She trailed off, gesturing for him to go ahead.

When Sam entered the front room, the colonel swiveled on his heel and his slightly embarrassed expression didn't go unnoticed.

"Am I interrupting something, Carter?" He asked, gesturing vaguely to the opened bottle of wine.

Sam's eyes widened. _"No,"_ then realizing she sounded a little _too_ keen to let him know she was alone, she tried again. "No, sir. I was just... No, you're not interrupting anything," she finished quietly, handing him his beer before reclaiming her spot on the couch.

"So," Jack said, picking at the label on his beer bottle as he settled on the armchair. "How you doing?"

"I'm fine, sir," Sam answered slowly. When he didn't continue the conversation, she added, "Can I ask why you're here?"

"Can't a colonel just check on his team every once in a while?"

"Ah, yes, sir. I guess he can," she answered in confusion. "But –"

"Daniel told me what he said."

"With all due respect, I –"

"Relax, Carter. I'm not here to give you a lecture. I just came by to make sure you were okay."

"Oh. Well… I'm fine, sir."

He didn't say anything, instead, he let his gaze linger on her face before he slowly leaned forward and set his beer on the table.

"Bullshit."

"Sir?"

"You heard me."

"I don't –"

"Daniel was out of order."

"He wasn't himself. He was –"

"– under the influence of a sarcophagus. Yada, yada," he finished. "It still doesn't excuse his behavior."

Sam frowned at his sudden change in mood. "Colonel, does Daniel know you're here?"

"No. No-one does," he added as an afterthought as he picked up his beer again.

"So, why are you here?"

"I told you already."

"Yes, sir, you did, but –"

" I don't think you are fine."

Not knowing how to respond to his statement, Sam took a drink. "What makes you think I'm not fine?"

"I know you," he shrugged. "Better than you think I do."

For a reason she couldn't explain, Sam bristled at his assumption and she spoke before she fully thought through the question. "And just what are you thinking, sir?"

His expression remained neutral as he rested his elbows on his knees. "I think you believe what Daniel said."

"That is _not_ true. I – I just – it's not –"

"I don't need to know if it's true or not, Carter. Frankly, it's none of my business," he said. "I just –"

He stared at his hands and when he spoke again, Sam could barely hear him. "I know what it's like to say something when you're… not exactly yourself, and when it affects your loved ones it's… it hurts."

Bringing her knees to her chest, Sam suddenly felt vulnerable. The colonel had somehow struck at the heart of what had really been bugging her about Daniel's comments.

"I just needed to know you were okay."

The question escaped her before she could stop it. "What if Daniel was right?"

At his blank expression, she added: "About me; that I've never known what love is."

"I don't believe that."

"I thought I loved Jonas – and look how that turned out."

"Carter, with all due respect, there was nothing you could do to save the guy, but right up to his death, you still tried your best… why?"

"It's our job, sir."

"No, not to save psychopaths, it's not." At her silence, he continued, "It's because you loved him."

"It's twisted –"

"Love can take many different forms, Carter, and sometimes it can make us blind," he confessed. "But I've watched you with Cassie, and I've seen how Cassie is when she's with you – she loves you. And despite what you might think right now, Daniel loves you too. Not to mention Teal'c; he's such a teddy bear, and then there's –"

His sudden reluctance to continue his sentence peaked Sam's interest but before she could think about what he might have said, she noticed him watching her intently.

"Sometimes, what we learn about love is what we're taught by the people who never really loved us," he murmured, "but trust me when I say that you're loved, Carter."

His eyes roamed over her face as silence filled the room.

Sam felt the lump in her throat at his words, and her voice wavered slightly when she spoke.

"Thank you, sir."

"Anytime, Carter."

* * *

 **I appreciate that this conversation is out-of-character for these two, particularly Jack. But when I watched this episode, there's one stage when he seems genuinely concerned for Sam in the mine – moreso than his own health or Teal'c's and I started wondering if this was around the time when he began to develop feelings for Sam… even if he didn't realize it himself, yet.**


	156. The Cat That Got The Cream

**Author's Note: Written for 'Hug Your Cat Day' (4 June). Set post-series.**

* * *

There is no way – on this planet or any other planet in the galaxy – that Jack O'Neill is jealous of a cat.

Nope. Not at all.

But then he glances down and a twinge of _something_ strikes him in the gut – _hard_ – and he thinks he might be feeling a little put out.

There's a hockey game on the television, but he's turned the sound off and he hasn't really been paying it much attention for the past ten minutes. Instead, he's found his gaze wandering to the other side of the couch, to Sam. Her attention is on the book she's reading but every so often she looks down at her lap and smiles – while he tries not to let his annoyance show. For while Sam's feet are resting on his lap, Zeus seems to have taken up permanent residence on Sam's lap.

But _no_ , Jack is definitely not jealous of a cat.

He's pretty sure though that he can hear the animal purring happily as Sam rubs its belly and he can't quite blame him because he's pretty happy every time Sam touches him as well, but at this precise moment in time she isn't, so he's grumpy.

Only he can't tell her this because he knows how ridiculous it sounds to admit that he might – _just possibly_ – be envious. _Of a cat._

He sighs and it catches both the attention of Sam and Zeus, but instead of voicing his thoughts he waves off her concern and she goes back to her book. Zeus, meanwhile, keeps staring and Jack – being the mature adult that he is – refuses to look away first.

So, he waits. But with every second that passes, he's pretty sure the cat is looking more and more entitled. Like it knows this is one battle it's about to win, and just when Jack is about to concede defeat, Zeus lifts his head and Jack _swears_ that he's on the receiving end of some kind of smug expression, right before the cat stretches and snuggles deeper into Sam's lap. Instinctively, she reaches out and pulls him closer and Jack stares in disbelief at the fact that their pet is able to get all up close and personal with Carter and yet her husband can't. He huffs out a sigh.

"Lucky bastard," he grumbles under his breath as he reluctantly returns his attention back to the television and jabs the volume button on the remote.


	157. Moonshine

**Author's Note: Written for 'Moonshine Day' (5 June).**

 **Set after the events of Full Circle, but for the purposes of this fic, Abydos wasn't destroyed and Skaara did get married.**

* * *

He's only had one cup of Skaara's "moonshine" and it's enough to give him a little buzz.

He feels absolutely fine, but when he gets to his feet he's surprised to find himself a little unsteady. When he tries to take a step forward, his shoulder bumps against Carter's – which would also, usually, be absolutely fine – except she's looking what Jack can only describe as _radiant_ and he suddenly doesn't quite trust himself to behave around her this evening.

Even though Sam does not appreciate having to don the apparel of the local inhabitants on some of their missions, she's made it quite clear that she wants to dress in the local attire of the Abydonians for the duration of Skaara's wedding. It's a really nice gesture on the major's part and it means a lot to both him and Skaara, but it also means that Jack gets to see a side of Carter that he rarely gets to see. And that's probably a good thing.

 _Because she's beautiful._ Even more so than usual, and he didn't think that was possible. The local women have dressed her in a sleeveless linen tunic, dusty pink in color, that's tied around her neck in a halter-style and pulled in at the waist with a plaited belt. It accentuates every single one of her curves and Jack has to swallow hard at the feelings the sight elicits from him. It's enough to make him have _very_ unprofessional thoughts, so he refuses to let his gaze stray lower, to where the dress is slit at the sides, so every time Carter walks, there's a tantalizing glimpse of her legs. Long legs, which have some kind of leather wrapped around them from ankle to thigh, thanks to the sandals she's also wearing.

Jack's pretty sure he's a dead man walking, so when he says that he's going outside for some fresh air – and for some reason he is going to completely blame on the booze – he tells Sam she is more than welcome to join him.

Which, again, would be a completely normal request. Except that she accepts his offer and instinctively, his hand finds its way to the small of her back as he guides her through the dancing, slightly inebriated bridal party and out to the quieter, slightly sobering desert.

He isn't sure where he's walking them to, but he tells himself that if he keeps going, he'll walk off the moonshine and therefore not do anything that may or may not get him in trouble. And he reckons he would have been right, except that Carter has yet to pull away from him; if anything, she's pressing her back harder against his hand. She hasn't uttered a word since leaving the party – neither of them has – but she seems content to just trust him and follow wherever he goes.

They reach the crest of one of the sand dunes and Jack spots an oasis up ahead to their left, and he decides it's as good a place as any to stop.

He's concentrating on putting one foot in front of the other, but just as they reach the bottom of the hill, Carter loses her footing and before she can fall, Jack grabs her arm. Clearly, the alcohol is still in his system, however, because when he pulls her towards him, he misjudges the distance – and speed – and she turns and crashes against his chest, sending them both sprawling into the sand. As Jack lands on his back, he's quickly covered by Sam, her chest pressing against his, her hands planted on either side of his head, and she's virtually straddling him.

"Carter, I –"

He trails off when her gaze flicks down to his lips before she meets his eye.

"Maybe we should – uh –"

"I should move."

"Yeah," he nods, but she doesn't move. But then he realizes that his hands are resting on her hips and he's yet to move those either. He knows he should, but he doesn't really want to. He really _needs_ to though, because the feel of Sam against him is making his body react in ways he'd rather she doesn't know about. He thinks about ordering her to move, but then her lips press against his and any coherent thought he may have had, vanishes and he's kissing her back. Thoroughly.

It's only when the need for air becomes too great that they pull apart and her breath tickles his neck.

"That – uh –"

"We probably shouldn't do that again," she whispers.

"No," he agrees. "It's a – bad – idea."

"A very bad idea," she nods.

Her words are breathy and her eyes are dark and she's just _so perfect,_ that he lets his gaze roam over her face.

"Terrible idea," he murmurs before he quickly pulls her closer and kisses her again.


	158. Growing Up Is Optional

**Author's Note: Written for 'Yo-Yo Day' (6 June). Episode tag for season 7, Fragile Balance.**

* * *

Sam crossed her arms and watched her commanding officer in part bemusement, part concern.

"Are you sure you're feeling okay, sir?"

"Yep."

"And there's no lasting effects from –"

"Nope."

Sam pursed her lips and nodded slowly but continued to study him – before swiftly resisting the urge to roll her eyes.

The colonel was now standing at the other side of her lab bench, his tongue sticking out slightly, his gaze fully focused on the item in his hands. Suddenly, the item shot forward towards the collection of alien artefacts on the bench and she gasped.

"Why do keep asking me that?"

"Hmm?"

He waved his free hand around idly. "Why are you asking? Fraiser's already cleared me and there's no lasting damage from whatever Locket did – or didn't do," he amended with a frown before he met Sam's gaze.

"Um, it's _Loki_ , sir, and I'm just… curious. That's all."

When he continued to stare at her, she felt her face grow hot and she forced herself to look away.

"Carter?"

"Yes, sir?"

"What's going on?"

Out of habit, she went to answer, only to stop herself. If she was honest, she wasn't completely convinced that Loki hadn't made a mistake when he'd tried to clone the colonel. He was definitely acting more _childish_ than before and Sam briefly wondered how much trouble she would get into if she actually voiced the thought. Realizing she didn't particularly want to find out, she decided against saying what was on her mind.

"Never mind," she said suddenly with a forced smile. "Please, continue."

As he followed her request, Sam worried her bottom lip and reclaimed her seat at her computer. She placed her elbows on the bench and rested her chin on her hands as she simply watched her commanding officer.

Within the space of ten minutes, however, she had been forced to move the artefacts to the far end of her workspace and hold her breath as he threw the yo-yo forward and only half-succeeded with his attempts at 'Walk The Dog' and 'Rock The Baby'.

"Damn."

Sam glanced at him and tried to hide her smile as he tugged at the knots in the string once more.

"Sir," she said quietly. "It's not that I mind the company –"

He let his hands fall by his sides and he arched a brow. "But?"

"But," she grimaced. "Don't you feel like spending some time with Daniel – or Teal'c?"

"Are you trying to get rid of me, Carter?"

"No! _No,_ " she stressed as she held up a hand. "It's just… I do have work to do, sir."

"Don't let me stop you," he quipped as he looked away and flicked his wrist downwards so the yo-yo spiraled towards the floor before it rebounded into his right hand.

"Right," she mumbled.

Eyeing him out of the corner of her eye, Sam picked up the closest artefact. It had been on Loki's ship and Thor – by way of apology for the Asgard's deception – had agreed to let the team take it and study it for a while. It was hexagonal in shape, with each point shaped from a different colored crystal. Sam had no idea what it was supposed to do, but –

 _"Ah, crap."_

Biting back a sigh, she turned to the colonel just as he gingerly flexed his fingers and tried to free them from the string of the yo-yo. Without warning, he straightened and looked at her. He suddenly seemed uncomfortable and Sam's gaze narrowed, especially when he hooked a finger under the collar of his black t-shirt and cleared his throat.

"Uh, Carter?"

"Yes, sir?"

"Help a guy out here, would ya?" he asked as he thrust his hand towards her.

With a smirk, Sam leaned forward and started to free his hand but the task would have been much easier had her commanding officer not leaned forward also. His breath tickled her cheek and it was far more dangerous and distracting than she thought possible.

After a few moments of silence, Jack spoke quietly. "Dannnlamph."

Sam glanced up, her brows furrowed in confusion. "Sir?"

"Daniel barred me from his lab," he mumbled quietly.

"Ah. Why, sir?"

"Look, is it my fault if he leaves his ancient tablets lying around?"

 _"Colonel."_

"How was I to know it would smash into three pieces?" he asked defensively.

"What did you do?"

"I was attempting to go around the world."

Sam frowned at the answer, then murmured an 'Oh', when her teammate jostled his hand, the yo-yo dangling pathetically between his fingers.

"But his rocks got in my way."

A giggle escaped Sam as she finally removed the string from Jack's hand and she handed over the toy.

"Is he speaking to you at least?"

"I, ah, didn't hang around long enough to find out. Thanks Sam," he added after a beat, holding up the yo-yo to emphasize his point.

"Anytime," she smiled before she realized their close proximity. He appeared to notice at the same time and quickly stepped back from the bench. Drawing in a breath, he let it go, puffing out his cheeks and glanced around the lab.

"So," he said, casually to the artefact on the bench. "Whatcha working on?"

Instead of answering however, Sam tilted her head. "Are you sure you really want to know?"

"Never mind," he said, letting his attention return to the toy.

Sam rolled her eyes at his limited attention span and turned to grab a notepad and pen. She had just lifted the items when she heard the colonel's proud, "Oh, around the world we go!" turn into an "Oops", moments before she heard the crash.

Swinging around, she snapped her mouth shut when she saw Loki's artefact was now lying on the floor, with a very sheepish Jack O'Neill standing over it. Narrowing her eyes, Sam tried to think of something diplomatic that she could get away with saying, but before she could utter a word, the colonel crouched down, lifted the item and pushed it towards her. It now had a large crack down the center and after a moment's thought he also held out the yo-yo.

Silently taking both items, her eyes followed her commanding officer as he slowly backed out of her lab.

"Y'know, that 'around the world' trick is a lot harder than it looks."

"Sir –"

"You should try it sometime."

 _"Sir –"_

"And you really shouldn't leave your alien doohickeys lying around either."

" _Sir!"_

"Sorry, Carter. Gotta go!"

With that, he disappeared out of sight and Sam tried not to growl in frustration. Her eyes had just slid back to the yo-yo when his voice travelled from down the corridor.

"You can keep it, Carter! Happy Yo-Yo Day!"


	159. Lunchtime Donuts & Early Morning Coffee

**Author's Note: Written for 'Donut Day' (7 June). Missing scene for Lost City.**

* * *

"Everything okay?"

She glances towards Daniel on her left and gives him a half-smile before returning her attention to the night sky.

"Yeah," she answers after a while. "I was just thinking."

"We'll find a way, Sam."

She knows he's right; that if anyone can it's them, but she hears the hesitation in his voice and can't help but close her eyes at his words.

"I hope so."

"You don't think we will?"

She waits as Daniel moves closer and rests his elbows on the railing, mirroring her position.

"I'm not sure," she admits. "I just – something feels _wrong._ "

She glances at her friend to find him looking at her in concern and she feels a little foolish, but she can't shake the nagging feeling in her gut. "This time feels different," she whispers, "like this is our last chance."

Her words sound deafening in the stillness of their surroundings and she can feel Daniel's gaze on her; studying her, trying to decide whether he should say what is on his mind or not. She doesn't have to wait long.

"Is that why you were here earlier?"

"Maybe," she shrugs. "I don't know. I was out driving and then – I ended up here."

She catches his wince out of the corner of her eye.

"I, ah, think I owe you an apology."

"For what?"

"Donuts."

She smirks at his answer, but decides against saying anything. It's a few minutes later before Daniel presses his shoulder against hers.

"I think Teal'c and I are going to head back to the SGC," he says quietly, his attention focused on his hands.

"Yeah, I'm going to call it a night too."

"Is that a good idea?"

She frowns. "What do you mean?"

"Well," he says, taking a deep breath. "I mean Jack might _look_ fine and _say_ he's fine, but it might be better if one of us stayed behind for a while. Just to make sure," he shrugs, but his attempt at nonchalance doesn't escape Sam.

"Let me guess," she smiles, "you want me to stay."

"It's like you said," he answers as he pushes away from the railing and heads back towards the house, "it could be your last chance."

A lump forms in her throat at Daniel's words and she has to swallow hard against the emotions that threaten to spill out. She doesn't know what – if anything – will happen if she stays a little bit later this evening, but for once, she decides not to overthink the situation and instead follows her friend indoors.

* * *

 **I know I'm behind in posting these chapters again, but I will catch up as soon as possible. One of my close relatives is really ill at the moment and any spare time I have, has been spent with them; they've always been one of my biggest supporters when it comes to my writing which, sadly, has made this task even more difficult this past week or so.**

 **However, I just want to thank you all for the kind reviews and kudos you've left lately. Ever since I started this series, so many of you have said that the updates have been a highlight to your day or given a few moments of brightness or laughter in an otherwise bad day. For me, over this past couple of weeks, you've all helped provide a little relief to my days and helped me get through them. Thank you.**


	160. Rise And Shine

**Author's Note: Written for 'Upsy Daisy Day' (8 June), a reminder to "greet the day bright and cheerful". Not so much in this chapter…**

 **Introspective piece for _Threads_ – after Sam calls Jack at home.**

* * *

Jack tried not to let his frustration show as he got out of bed and quickly got dressed. He could feel Kerry's eyes on him, watching his every move, and whilst it would probably be a turn on at some other time, now it just made him uncomfortable, especially when he'd caught the confusion in her expression at his abrupt change in mood.

It wasn't her fault. He couldn't even explain why he was suddenly so angry.

Sure, he wasn't looking forward to the briefing with Teal'c and Bra'tac, but he couldn't even say that was the cause of his annoyance. No, his problems started when Carter called.

He'd been dreaming; like _actual_ dreaming. About something pleasant, as opposed to the nightmares that usually tended to haunt him in his sleep.

He remembered now, because when the phone rang, it had interrupted a _really_ nice part of his dream.

 _She'd followed him home and they'd had a couple of beers as they talked about work and things as innocuous as The Simpsons. But then there'd been a brush of hands and the air suddenly felt hot and charged and then he'd cracked a slightly crude joke, before clothes were being divested. He remembered how her body felt pressed against his; the way his name escaped her lips in satisfaction; the way his fingers slid into her hair and tangled with those blonde strands he loved to –_

He froze at the revelation and felt himself flush.

He was mad because he suddenly realized the woman of his dreams was the one he couldn't have and to wake up and think for just a split second that it was _her_ on the other side of his bed, only to discover it was Kerry, made him feel guilty and angry and confused as hell.

He didn't have time to think about what it all meant right now, however, or what he was going to do about the discovery, so he shook his head to try and rid himself of the thoughts.

"Something tells me this is going to be a bad day," he growled as he grabbed his keys and slammed the front door behind him.


	161. Close-Knit

**Author's Note: Written for 'Worldwide Knit In Public Day' (9 June). Set post-series.**

* * *

Jack eyed his cup of coffee then sighed.

"Here," he said as he held it out to Cassie. She looked up in surprise, but smiled her thanks as she took the drink and Jack slid onto the seat beside her.

"So, did she kick you out as well?"

A snort was his answer and he narrowed his eyes at the young woman.

"Not a chance," she smiled, holding the cup to her lips. "The nurse arrived, so I said I'd give her some privacy." A beat passed before she spoke again, her amusement evident. "I heard she kicked you out though."

"I want that coffee back if you're just going to make fun of me."

"Oh, come on, Jack," she laughed. "You have to admit, it is funny."

"No, it isn't."

"Yes, it is – because it's just – _you._ "

He raised a brow in indignation. _"Me?"_

"No; you and Sam," she clarified, but when he still stared in confusion, she resisted the urge to roll her eyes. "Think about it," she said. "After _everything_ the two of you have been through – and you both wait until Sam's in labor to have your first argument."

"It wasn't an argument."

"Whatever," she conceded as she took a sip of the coffee, before she scrunched up her nose. "Black and two sugars?"

"That's how I take my coffee," he shrugged.

"Here," she said. "I'll get my own."

As Jack reclaimed his drink, he watched Cassie out of the corner of his eye when she started to mutter to herself as she searched through her handbag. It took a while before she finally found what she was looking for – and he couldn't hide his surprise.

"I didn't know you could knit."

"Oh, yeah," she smiled, not looking up. "Sam taught me."

Jack's brows rose even higher up his forehead at the revelation. "Sam taught you," he repeated. "Samantha Carter? _My Sam?_ "

"Yes, Jack," she smiled. _"Your Sam."_

"When?"

"Um," she frowned a little in concentration. "About two months after I came to live here. You know… _from Toronto,_ " she grinned suddenly as she met his eye and he gave her a wink at their private joke.

"But that was over ten years ago," he said after a few moments passed.

"Yeah," she shrugged. "I was really missing my mom one day," she said, sobering, "and Sam told me that it was okay to feel sad – because she still missed her mom too, but when she felt that way, she always tried to do something that brought back happier memories. Knitting was one of those things."

"Huh," he mumbled. "I never knew that."

"I'd be surprised if anyone does," she admitted. "It wasn't something she really mentioned again – she probably doesn't even realize I still knit."

He gently nudged her shoulder with his and she paused in her task to look at him. "You should tell her."

"Maybe," she agreed but as she returned her attention to the items in her hands, Jack couldn't help but notice she was trying to hide her smile.

"What are you making anyway?"

Without saying anything, she held up the knitted item and Jack was momentarily speechless.

"It's a sweater," she said quietly, studying him carefully, "for the baby."

"Oh, Cass," he whispered, swallowing hard against the sudden lump in his throat. "It looks great."

She nodded once and glanced away, but Jack quickly reached out, threw his arm around her shoulder and pulled her close. "Thank you," he added as he pressed a kiss into her hair. "Sam's gonna love it too."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah," he confirmed, giving her shoulders a squeeze.

He let her return to her knitting, content to just watch her work for a while, when she suddenly started to giggle.

"What's so funny?"

"Nothing."

When she continued to laugh however, Jack rolled his eyes. "Spill it, Cass."

"I still can't believe Sam kicked you out of the room – for _mollycoddling_ ," she said, throwing quote marks around Sam's reason for wanting rid of Jack for a while.

"I prefer to use the term _attentive husband,_ " he huffed.

A peal of laughter escaped her and she was just about to answer when the door to Sam's room opened and the nurse stepped into the corridor.

"Mr O'Neill?"

"Yeah," he said, getting to his feet.

"Your wife is asking for you," she smiled. "It's time."


	162. To The Point

**Author's Note: Written for 'Ball Point Pen Day' (10 June). Set during season 7, because I love the chemistry between Sam and Jack.**

* * *

He'll be the first to admit that he's petulant, so the more Carter stares at him and sighs, the more he decides to tap the pen against the folded newspaper – just because he knows how much it's aggravating her this morning and for some unhealthy reason he _refuses_ to address, he enjoys it when she gets a little mad at him.

Another sigh reaches his ears, so he draws in a breath and makes a big show of studying the crossword. After a few seconds he clicks his fingers, scribbles _completely_ the wrong answer into the boxes and then gives the pen a double-click for good measure.

"You're doing that on purpose."

He slowly meets her gaze across the table but gives nothing away.

"What am I doing?"

"You're trying to distract me, just so you can finish your puzzle first."

"And why would I do that?"

"Never mind," she mumbles as she looks back at her own crossword.

The commissary isn't overly busy as it's still far too early in the morning, but he doesn't particularly want anyone to catch him staring at his second-in-command either, so he observes her for a few more seconds before he looks away. He isn't quite sure when they started working on crossword puzzles together over breakfast – or how Daniel and Teal'c found out about it – but he's even more unsure as to how he ended up making one of the most idiotic bets he's ever made with the archaeologist.

"You're doing it again. _Sir._ "

Frowning in confusion, he looks around. "What?"

But instead of answering, she glares at him and over-exaggerates tapping her pen against the table.

"Oh." _Oh._ "Sorry, Carter."

She nods once, but he isn't sorry in the slightest. In fact, as soon as she looks away, he smirks because he knows she's about to reach her limit.

So, naturally, he starts to hum. Just loud enough so only she can hear.

It takes all of four seconds before she throws her paper and pen onto the table.

"Really, sir? _The Simpsons?_ "

"Carter, I don't –"

"Give it to me," she suddenly says as she reaches across the table and swipes the pen from his hand and turns his newspaper around.

She's just about to score out one of his answers when she freezes and her gaze snaps to his – her surprise just as evident as his at her actions, but when she hastily tacks on a 'sir' before she turns her attention back to the crossword, he can't help but grin. His gaze falls to the pen she stole and he watches the way she methodically writes over his own letters, the odd huff of amusement – or disgust, he can't quite tell – being uttered as she reads through his attempt at answers.

"You know," she says distractedly, as she fills in another column, "just because I'm finishing your answers rather than my own, doesn't mean you get to win."

His amusement fades slightly and he sits up straighter in the chair.

"I don't know what you're talking about."

"Uh huh."

"No really," he quips as he reaches for his coffee. "Feel free to enlighten me, Carter," he adds, but when she carefully sets the pen down and leans back in her chair, Jack knows that she knows.

"Daniel told me."

"The little weasel."

He mumbles the insult under his breath, but Sam still hears it if her smirk is anything to go by.

"You bet Daniel fifty bucks that you would finish a crossword puzzle before me! Not only is the idea completely ridiculous – no offence – but is it honestly the best bet you could come up with?"

"No," he fires back, then pulls a face when he realizes he's just confirmed his part in the bet. It's his turn to sigh heavily. "But it's probably the only bet that'll get me into the least amount of trouble – or so I thought," he grumbles when Sam continues to stare.

"Alright, Carter. Listen," he says, resting his elbows on the table and leaning in conspiratorially, "I'll make you a deal. If you help me finish this, the fifty bucks? It's yours."

She frowns slightly at him, a wary expression on her face. "Why would you do that?"

"Because I refuse to prove Daniel right. He'll be insufferable."

"What's in it for me?"

"Five. Zero. Carter. Fifty bucks!"

"Oh, I don't think so," she laughs. "I mean, I'll take the fifty bucks, but it's going to cost you more than that."

His eyes narrow as he watches his teammate suspiciously. "How much more?"

"I don't know yet," she says lightly as she picks up the newspaper again. "How badly do you want to win?"

"It's _Daniel,_ " he answers, throwing his arms up into the air.

"I'll have to think about it."

"Well don't take too long," he grumbles, instantly regretting it when she pierces him with a look.

"Do you want my help or not, sir?"

He purses his lips as he weighs up his options. There's Daniel who'll plaster a smug smirk onto his face and happily repeat 'I told you so' in 23 different languages; or there's Carter, who is staring at him with a glint in her eye and an equally smug smirk on her lips, and he's suddenly realizing he's in trouble no matter what he decides to do.

"Yeah," he sighs. "I do."

She nods once and resumes her task. "Daniel's going to know I helped you with this."

"Ah, but he doesn't know it's because I know you know about the bet."

A look of confusion briefly flits across Sam's face as she tries to follow his logic.

"It's cheating."

"Again, _it's Daniel._ "

 _"Sir –"_

 _"Please,_ Carter?"

"Fine," she smiles. "I'll help you."

"Thank you," he sighs. "Now, what's the damage?"

She grins mischievously and Jack swallows hard at the look in her eye.

"Wanna go double or nothing?"


	163. A Piece Of Cake

**Author's Note: Written for 'German Chocolate Cake Day' (11 June).**

 **Missing scene for season 3 'Fair Game'. This takes place shortly after the scene where Thor appears at the SGC to tell Jack the Goa'uld will arrive in four days for their negotiations.**

* * *

He hovers in the doorway to Sam's lab but she's too busy staring at her computer screen – a screen that isn't even switched on – to notice he's there, so he watches her for a moment before he takes a step inside.

"I thought I'd find you here."

She jumps at his voice and goes to stand but he quickly waves a hand in her general direction.

"You ducked out of your party early, Carter."

"I know, sir," she grimaces. "And I'm sorry, but I just –"

She stops abruptly and Jack's concern increases. As he moves closer to the bench, however, he keeps one hand firmly hidden behind his back.

"Everything OK?"

She nods and goes to speak, only to seemingly change her mind, so he keeps moving until he's standing opposite.

"What's up, Major?"

Despite her apprehension, her lips twitch at his address and he's glad he can make her smile, because the sight fills him with a warmth he isn't quite expecting, but welcomes all the same.

"It's nothing, sir. I just needed a minute."

When he continues to observe her, she closes her eyes and takes a deep breath before meeting his gaze again.

"It's going to take a while to get used to the promotion."

"It's well deserved – and long overdue," he says assuredly.

"It's more responsibility."

"Nothing you can't handle."

"My dad will be proud."

"He will. We're all proud of you," he adds quietly. "This program... it's nothing without you, Carter."

A deep blush creeps up her neck and face at his words and he feels a jolt of desire shoot through him, but then her smile falters slightly.

"Thank you sir, that means a lot... but permission to speak freely?"

Carefully balancing the item in his hand, and hoping Sam can't see it, he nods his permission as he sits down.

"As much as I appreciate the promotion and the cake and the impromptu celebrations... I don't really appreciate the attention."

"Ah."

And just like that, his suspicions for her disappearance are confirmed. He's incredibly proud of Carter – and it irks him that he can't tell her just _how_ proud of her he really is – so he has absolutely no issue letting the rest of the base know about her promotion instead. She deserves every single message of congratulations she receives. But he also _knows_ her, and knows that she doesn't like being the center of attention. It's not why she does the job, and it's not why she's taken the promotion. So, he gets it. He understands why she left the rest of them to eat the cake and have a drink without her because he would do the exact same thing if he was having to be the center of everyone's attention too.

Suddenly, his idea to grab a slice of cake before he came looking for her seems like one of the best ideas he's ever had.

"I got you something."

"Sir?"

He hears the surprise in her voice and sees the curiosity in her eyes.

"Well, since my speech was so rudely interrupted, it's the least I could do. Besides," he adds, trying to sound as casual as possible, "I know you don't want a fuss, but you still deserve to celebrate."

With a flourish, he reveals the small plate he's been hiding behind his back. He sets it on the bench and pushes it towards her.

"You brought me cake, sir?"

"You betcha," he grins. "Chocolate. It's the good stuff," he adds with a wink, right before he pulls two forks from his jacket pocket. He hears Sam chuckle as he hands her one and keeps a firm hold of the other. "What?"

"Nothing," she says as she reaches for the dessert. She's just about to take a piece when she glances up at him. "Thank you, sir."

"For what?" He asks around a mouthful of cake.

"A pretty perfect celebration," she smiles.


	164. I Need A Hero

**Author's Note: Written for 'Superman Day' (12 June). Set post-series.**

* * *

"Oh. I love superheroes!"

"I know you do – and they are pretty cool," Jack smiles as he sets a bowl of Froot Loops onto the table.

"So, you're like Superman?"

A chuckle escapes him as he reaches for the milk and pours it over the cereal.

"Not quite, honey," he answers, watching with amusement as his daughter tries to grab the carton from his hand.

"But you said he fights the bad guys and helps keep people safe."

"He does."

"And he's a superhero?"

"He is."

"But you helped save people from the bad guys too."

"I did," he answers slowly, "but it's – it's complicated."

He appreciates his daughter's sentiment, he really does, but he never, _ever_ saw himself as a superhero. His wife? _Definitely._ But him? Not so much.

He pushes the bowl closer to Grace and receives a happy hum in return, but just as he sits down and reaches for a slice of toast, he catches the brief look of confusion on her face.

"Are there rules for who can be a superhero?"

"Uh, I think so."

"Who makes 'em up?"

"Who makes _them_ up, Gracie," he gently corrects, "and I'm not sure."

"Can I make up the rules?"

"For who can be a superhero?"

She nods as she swallows her food.

"Yeah," he answers, deciding to humor her.

"Then it doesn't really matter, daddy."

"What doesn't matter?"

"Whether you're a superhero or not."

"Oh." He frowns, unsure as to what exactly she means by her comment.

She nods again vigorously in response, scooping up another spoonful of cereal. "Because I still love you."

"Well, that's good to know," he smiles.

Without warning, Grace looks up, meets his gaze and with a conspiratorial smile, leans forward and stage-whispers, "And do you know why?"

Jack's smile widens as he mirrors her actions. "Why?"

"Because if I make the rules, you'll always be my superhero."

"Always?"

"Always," she answers confidently.

With a soft chuckle, he stands and makes his way around the kitchen table.

"Thank you," he murmurs as he leans over and drops a kiss to the top of her head. "I love you too, kiddo."


	165. Axe To Grind

**Author's Note: Written for 'International Axe Throwing Day' (13 June). Blink-and-you'll-miss-it missing scene for Threads.**

* * *

Sam stepped out of the cabin and froze.

The colonel's back was to her but he'd shed his t-shirt and all she could focus on was his tanned skin and how it glistened under a thin layer of sweat, the physical work taking its toll under the heat of the afternoon sun.

He shifted slightly and lifted his arms above his head and as Sam watched the muscles contract and flex and ripple with every movement he made, she decided it was one of the hottest things she'd ever witnessed. She was fascinated.

She leaned against the doorframe, content to just observe as he repeated the actions over and over again. The way he lifted the axe before swinging it over his shoulder so it hit the block of wood with a satisfying thud right before it split in half; the way he placed the axe against the large tree to his right and he bent down to pick up the chopped wood and throw the pieces into a barrel. The way his hand rested on his hip, right before his voice reached her ears and –

"You just gonna hold that all day or do you feel like sharing?"

Her skin grew hot at his question, embarrassed that she'd been caught checking him out, but when he turned and grinned at her, she felt herself relax. She pushed away from the door and as she reached him, his fingers brushed hers as he took the glass of lemonade from her, while his other hand made its way to the small of her back and pulled her close.

"You see something you like?" he murmured.

"Maybe," she smiled.

"You know," he said after a beat, "the guys aren't due to arrive until this evening."

"Really?"

"Oh, yeah."

"Then what are you waiting for?"

In one smooth motion, he'd set the glass down by the axe and turned them so Sam's back was now pressed against the tree trunk and when he grinned mischievously, Sam felt the warmth pool low in her belly. She instinctively leaned in and smiled as her lips pressed against his.


	166. Benevolent

**Author's Note: Written for 'Bourbon Day' (14 June). Episode tag for New Order.**

* * *

He finds her at home, sitting in her kitchen with her back leaning against one of the cupboards and her legs bent, knees pulled close to her chest. She doesn't acknowledge his presence but he knows she knows he's there.

His gaze falls to the empty glass and half-empty bottle of bourbon by her side and without thinking, he swipes another glass from the worktop and eases down onto the floor beside her.

He doesn't know what happened to her during her capture – she's refused to say – but he knows it involved Fifth which leaves him in no doubt that it wasn't a pleasant experience and the fact that she chose to leave the base as soon as their post-mission briefing had finished told him everything he needed to know.

Silently, he lifts the bottle and pours them both a finger of bourbon but Sam has no sooner taken one of the glasses from him and downed her drink, when he finds himself asking, "What happened?"

She shakes her head, then shrugs, but says nothing so he refills her glass and waits. He thinks she's about to neck it again and he wants to tell her to go easy but then she hesitates and her gaze locks onto the liquid as she swirls it around the glass.

Her whispered confession is deafening in the silence.

"Fifth tortured me."


	167. Flip Out

**Author's Note: Written for 'Flip-Flop Day' (14 June). Set during season 4 – before the events of** _ **Divide & Conquer**_ **.**

* * *

Jack's just about to take a swig of beer when he sees her and he freezes, the bottle just touching his lips.

Sam is laughing at something Daniel's said – he's already halfway to being drunk – but she seems more at ease in his home today which is a new phenomenon. She's relaxed and casual and there's something about the way she looks that makes Jack's heart race just a little bit faster and has him staring for just a second too long.

She's wearing a black t-shirt and rolled up jeans, but for some inexplicable reason it's the flip-flops that he focuses on. He's never really seen Carter's feet before and he's fascinated by the discovery that she paints her toenails. It adds another layer to the wonder that is his second-in-command and he suddenly finds himself desperate to break through those same layers; to learn more about her, to experience the side he rarely gets to see, and get to the real core of the woman now standing before him and staring at him in amusement.

The realization is like a sucker punch because he isn't sure when or why he's suddenly started to think of Sam as being potentially something _more_ than just his teammate or subordinate and whilst he knows that he shouldn't be having those kind of thoughts at all, he can't quite bring himself to care.

Especially when she's in his house and she's happy and at ease and there's a look about her as if she belongs there.

 _Maybe she does_ , his mind traitorously supplies and he quickly tries to banish the thought as he watches her retrieve a beer from the refrigerator. She twists the cap off and throws it in the bin before she catches his eye and smiles at him. One of those smiles he's come to learn is reserved just for him.

"Is everything okay, sir?"

He decides to steal one final glance at her appearance.

"You know what, Carter," he says, a grin slowly shaping his lips, "things are looking pretty good."


	168. A Delicate Balance

**Author's Note: Written for 'World Juggling Day' (15 June). An amendment to** _ **that**_ **scene in Affinity, when Sam is debating whether she can/will/should juggle her work and (potential) family life.**

* * *

She feels ashamed for what she's about to ask, but there's actually a really good reason as to why she's having this conversation with him at all because she is acutely aware that if she doesn't do it now, she'll never get another chance and a part of her finds that unacceptable.

"What about you?" A flicker of surprise crosses his face and she quickly adds, "If things had been different?"

His expression gives nothing away, but his eyes are dark and intense as they bore into hers and she has to look away, but when she does, she misses the way his gaze roams over her face and his expression softens infinitesimally.

"I wouldn't be here."

Her gaze snaps to his at the admission because those four words could hold a multitude of meanings and she's just about to ask him what – exactly – he's talking about when she catches the movement. It's small, but it's enough; when his gaze drops guiltily and he looks back at her, regretfully and almost hopelessly, and she knows he's talking about _them_.

She wonders how they got into this sorry situation and she almost – _almost_ – wants to laugh because she knows it's her fault. She was the one who insisted they leave it in the room all those years ago, and whilst he's shown glimpses that he still cares about her _more than he should_ , it's always her who finally pushes back. She's the one who reminds them of who they are and why they need to stay 'Carter' and 'Sir'.

But now she's not just stepped over that line, but taken a running leap over it by addressing _that_ particular elephant in the room, so she decides to just keep going because she isn't sure what she has to lose at this point.

"What if I retired?"

His eyebrows rise slightly, but any emotion he's experiencing is quickly masked. "Is that something you'd really want to do?"

"It's an option."

"Is it?"

"I –"

"It's only an option if it's something you want to seriously consider, Carter."

His reasoning makes her hesitate, because she isn't sure it is what she wants – and he knows that, unlike Pete who not-so-helpfully suggested she think about giving up her job so she could essentially become a homemaker.

"Shouldn't you be talking about this kind of stuff with Pete?"

"Probably," she mutters before she can stop herself.

"Why aren't you?"

She winces and then shrugs, because it's the best answer she can give him right now – namely, because she doesn't know why she'd rather be talking to her commanding officer about a marriage proposal as opposed to her potential fiancé.

"Are things with the cop not going well?"

"They were – _are,_ " she corrects quickly. "It's just – marriage? It's a really big step."

"Yeah," Jack answers slowly. "But it's also a natural one for many couples."

Her brow puckers at the word 'couple' because she selfishly doesn't want him to refer to her in that way, so she averts her gaze.

"What's going on, Sam?"

His expression has softened and his voice is soft but it does nothing to comfort her or the tumultuous emotions waging war inside of her.

"I don't know what I'm supposed to do, sir," she finally whispers.

"Whatever you want."

"And what do I want?"

She isn't sure whether she intends for the question to be rhetorical or not, but the General simply leans forward, places his elbows on the edge of the lab bench and sighs.

"You tell me."

His words sound casual, but she thinks she catches the hint of a challenge underneath and she just stares at him rather than give voice to the thought.

"Whatever you decide," he offers, when it becomes clear she isn't going to answer, "You need to be happy. Does he make you happy?"

"Yes. I think so," but the answer doesn't sound convincing even to her own ears.

"Then," he pauses, "As long as you're happy – that's all that matters."

"Is it?"

 _"Carter,"_ he warns.

"What about you?"

"This isn't about me."

 _"Yes! It is,"_ she hisses before she can stop herself. "I – you – we –"

"Carter. _Stop,_ " he says firmly.

"I need you to be honest with me," she continues, ignoring his order. "I need to know."

He sighs heavily, but turns around, pulls his access pass from his pocket and swipes it so the door to the lab closes. He waits until it's firmly shut and then slowly turns to face her.

"What do you need to know?"

"Would I be making a huge mistake if I said yes?"

"To Pete?"

She bites down on her bottom lip and nods.

"I can't – and won't – tell you that."

She sighs in frustration. "I know," and yet she can't help but press the issue. "But –"

"I would never tell you what to do, Carter," he interrupts. "I'll always be here for you, no matter what," he adds and she inhales sharply when she hears the same promise he gave her on the Prometheus. "But only you know what it is you want."

"Do you know what you want?"

He tilts his head to the side as he regards her carefully for a moment.

"Yeah," he murmurs. "I have for years."

A heavy silence fills the room, neither of them seemingly sure as to what to do or say next following his admission. Sam closes her eyes and presses her fingers to her temples to try and ease the headache she feels building, but the sound of the door opening has her quickly looking up.

"You need to decide what you want, Sam," he repeats. "Just trust yourself. I do."

With that, he's gone and she is left staring at an empty doorway – and she is suddenly aware of everything. She knows why it has taken her two weeks to decide whether or not to accept Pete's proposal; because even though she didn't want to admit it, she _does_ know what she wants – and the thought of what she wants now walking away from her is more than she is prepared to handle.

She doesn't want a white picket fence or to be a stay-at-home mom and wife.

She wants to be with someone who _gets_ her; someone who will respect her and her decisions when it comes to her job; someone who knows what she likes and what she doesn't; someone who knows how she likes to be treated and how she doesn't; someone who knows what makes her come to life with excitement and what makes her want to hide away in fear… and as sweet as he might be, she doesn't have that with Pete – but she does with Jack.

She jumps off the stool and heads into the corridor.

 _"Sir!"_

He pauses and slowly turns to face her, his expression blank.

"I –"

She catches sight of an airman in the distance and stumbles, but when the General says her name, she straightens.

"I know what I want."

An inscrutable look crosses his face as he holds her gaze.

"Are you sure?"

"Yes," she nods. "I just… I just need a little time."

He presses his lips together and dips his head slightly in acknowledgement as he approaches her.

"Carter, I –"

"This is my decision," she cuts in, "but I think we need to talk. Properly."

"OK," he says. "Let me know when you're ready," he adds as he half-turns and begins to head back down the corridor, his lips twisting into a small smile. "I'll be waiting."

* * *

 **Okay… So, I had to re-watch this scene a few times for this chapter, and then for curiosity (I don't know why?), I went and watched the scene near the beginning of the episode when Pete proposes. And I swear, the more time that passes, the more those scenes really,**

 _ **really**_ **push my buttons – particularly the latter. I mean, Pete** _ **knows**_ **Sam's job is a secret for a reason and yet he still blabbers on in a public park about "alien creatures bent on galactic domination". Plus, don't even get me started on the "spandex" comment, or the fact that when he confirms that he** _ **did**_ **stalk her, she does not look happy. In. The. Slightest. Honestly, my rant about this scene would be longer than this chapter.**


	169. F Is For

**Author's Note: Written for 'Fudge Day' (16 June).**

 **This is for Leasel P who suggested the prompt, "every machine is a smoke machine if you operate it wrong enough". Set post-series.**

* * *

"Jack," she sighs. "Can we please just throw the toaster away? It's older than –"

Sam stops abruptly as Jack glowers. "Older than _what,_ Carter?"

"Never mind," she says sheepishly as she turns and sits at the table. "I just think it would be safer if we –"

"The toaster is fine," he insists. "I've been using it for years – and the cabin is still standing."

She presses her lips together and stares at him from across the kitchen. He steadily meets her gaze but after a few seconds he sighs heavily.

" _Fine._ If it makes you feel better, I'll take a look at it, but we don't need a new –"

" _Jack._ We've been at the cabin for three days now and not one of us has been able to eat a slice of toast."

He grumbles something unintelligible under his breath and Sam smirks.

"Don't make me say I told you so," she offers as she leans across the table and kisses his cheek before she gets to her feet. "I'm going to go check on Grace."

* * *

 _"Ah! Sh–"_

"Ahem."

Jack's gaze snaps to the doorway to see Sam staring at him disapprovingly before she gestures towards their daughter.

"I mean – uh –"

"Whatcha doin', daddy?"

He chooses to ignore the snort of amusement that comes from his wife and after giving his hand one final shake to make sure he can definitely feel his fingers again, he effortlessly picks Grace up and settles her on his hip.

"I was fixing the machine."

"Ooh," she croons, her eyes brightening with curiosity and Jack can't help but smile. Her enthusiasm at seeing how things go together and work is infectious, and reminds him very much of Sam.

"Speaking of," Sam says lightly, "how is your little project going?"

He sees the smirk on her face so he takes a step back, Grace still in his arms, and gestures grandly to the toaster.

"It's all fixed."

 _"Really?"_

Her sceptical look doesn't go unnoticed, but he shrugs it off. "Yup."

"So I can finally have toast for breakfast?"

"Breakfast, lunch and dinner," he corrects smugly. "Give it a try if you don't believe me."

Holding his gaze, Sam moves towards the toaster and grabs a couple of slices of bread. She puts them into the slots, pulls the lever down and waits. When no sparks fly and no weird noises emanate from the device, Jack sighs in relief.

But then he gets cocky and he's just about to ask Sam if she owes him an apology when Grace gasps.

"It's a smoke machine!"

"It's not a smo–" He catches the thin wisp of smoke coming from the toaster and frowns. "Uh –"

"Maybe we should –"

"It's fine," he says quickly, setting Grace down. "Probably just a few crumbs."

They watch as the smoke slowly thickens and he glances at Sam who stares back at him pointedly.

"I think I'm starting to agree with Grace."

"It's not a smoke machine!"

"Every machine is a smoke machine if you operate it wrong enough," Sam quips as she reaches forward.

"Ha _ha."_

She is just about to pull the plug out of its socket when the toaster suddenly sparks and the power cuts out throughout the cabin.

"Ah, _fu–_ "

 _"Jack!"_

" _–dge._ I was gonna say fudge!"


	170. Shape Of You

**Author's Note: Written for 'Tessellation Day' (17 June).**

* * *

"I don't think the Goa'uld are responsible for this – but it's definitely a message."

"Fascinating," Jack sighed as he reached Daniel. "Anything important you can decipher? Like where we can get our hands on some big honkin' space guns?"

He glanced over at Sam's snort of amusement and had to hide his own smile.

"I don't know, Jack," Daniel answered distractedly, his fingers tracing the pattern on the old stone wall. "I've never seen anything like this before."

Drawing in a deep breath, the colonel scanned the wall himself. To the far left was a column of small circles carved into the stone; beside those, was a row of triangles, and then squares, while the rest of the wall was covered in hexagons. Unlike the others, however, these weren't in a column or even tessellated, but rather carved sparsely into the yellow stone. Yet, despite there being no structure to the shapes, there was something about it that appeared methodical.

"Carter," he said suddenly, "what's your scientific head telling you?"

She pulled her gaze away from the wall and got to her feet before giving it a final long sweeping glance. "There does seem to be some kind of method behind… whatever this is, sir. Maybe if we can find a power source –"

"We'll take a look," he interrupted, gesturing for Teal'c to take point. "Don't touch anything until we get back," he added with a pointed look at Daniel.

He moved to join Teal'c, only to change his mind at the last moment and went to Sam. "What do you think we should be looking for?"

"My guess would be something similar to this, sir." She reached out and let her fingers brush lightly over the carvings. "If anything else has markings like these, it could be important."

He glanced at the wall once more and nodded. "OK." Then, without thinking, he reached out and pressed his palm against the wall. "Watch your si– _wow._ "

Jack whistled lowly, pulling his hand away and pointing his weapon at the wall. Sam automatically mirrored his position. "Did you feel that?"

Slowly, Sam met his eye but shook her head. "What happened?"

"The wall felt hot. Really hot," he frowned."

"I didn't –"

"Try it again," Daniel suddenly piped up from behind Jack, his expression showing concern, but his eyes shone brightly with curiosity.

"Is that wise?"

A shrug from the archaeologist was his answer and he resisted the urge to roll his eyes.

He sighed, then glanced at Carter. When she nodded in agreement, he glanced over at their remaining teammate. "Cover us, Teal'c."

"Alright, Carter," he said a moment later. "On three. One, two, three."

They both placed their palms felt against the wall – Jack's right and Sam's left – but nothing seemed to happen and they exchanged a wary look.

"Anything?"

"I don't –"

 _"Ah!"_

 _"Ow!"_

They simultaneously yanked their hands away and towards their chest and as Daniel and Teal'c came to their side, they couldn't help but notice Jack swearing under his breath, while Sam's eyes were shining brightly with unshed tears.

"It hurts," she suddenly whispered.

"Let me see," Daniel frowned, reaching for her hand, only for Teal'c's voice to stop him.

"Daniel Jackson."

He looked over at his friend, then followed his gaze to the wall, where a handful of hexagons in the center section now glowed a bright red. He moved closer, idly hearing Jack's warning to stay where he was. One by one, the hexagons started to fade, except for two.

"Let me see your hand," he repeated, turning to Sam.

She slowly uncurled her hand, hissing as the movement stung and her eyes widened to see a small hexagon shape burned into her palm.

"Jack?"

Silently, he held out his hand to show the same mark. Casting a quick look back at the wall, Daniel noticed how the two remaining carvings seemed to pulse. The movement – the red becoming more vibrant, then dimming, vibrant, dimming – reminding him of a heartbeat and as he studied the marks seared into both Sam and Jack's hand, his frown deepened.

"They're a perfect match," he whispered.


	171. Gone Fishin'

**Author's Note:** **Written for 'Go Fishing Day' (18 June). Missing scene for Threads.**

* * *

Sam sat down at the small desk in what used to be her father's guest quarters at the SGC and sighed. She reached down, opened the bottom drawer and was glad to see only a few items inside. Her relief immediately turned to guilt, however, knowing that she shouldn't be feeling that way, but this morning had been hard – a lot harder than she expected.

She had told General O'Neill that she would be okay; that she was ready to do this, but she wasn't. Her father's death was still too fresh, too painful and as she went through the process of sorting through his on-base possessions, she missed him more than ever.

She absently swiped away a few tears and took a deep breath. Not for the first time that day, was she thankful the General had ordered the security cameras to the room switched off. He hadn't said anything to her about it, but she knew.

Steeling herself, she lifted the items out of the drawer and frowned when the pile appeared to be nothing more than a handful of newspaper cuttings and photographs. She moved to the small cot and as started to look through the papers, her mood lightened. There were photographs of her and Mark when they were kids, photos of her mom on her wedding day, photos of Mark's family and finally, some of SG-1. Most of the images Sam had never laid eyes on before and she carefully placed them to one side. She would phone Mark later and see if he wanted them. Next, she moved onto the clippings, most of which were related to her mom's accident. Feeling the tears threatening to fall again, Sam quickly placed them beside the photos.

There was just one item left and Sam frowned as to what it was. She flipped it over and couldn't help but smile because it would appear that not even her father had escaped the General's 'gift giving' last Christmas. For there, in her hand was a copy of the calendar _'365 Holidays You Never Knew Existed'_.

She would never forget the boyish grin on her commanding officer's face when he gave each member of SG-1 a copy for Christmas. Apparently, he claimed there was a bizarre holiday for every day of the year, but Sam hadn't actually looked through the entire calendar to see if it was true. With a shake of her head, she opened it and saw the General's handwriting.

 _To Dad,_  
 _Now you've no excuse for forgetting my birthday._  
 _I even circled the date for you._  
 _Merry Christmas,_  
 _J._

Rolling her eyes good naturedly, Sam flicked to October 20 and chuckled when she saw the date was indeed circled, with the words, 'See, I told ya!' written inside.

Her fingers reverently traced the message. Even when he wasn't with her, he could make her smile and just the thought of him filled her with a peace she had missed the past year.

They had grown closer upon Daniel's return – the first time – but then they grew _too_ close and Sam had responded by pushing Jack away and pulling Pete in. She now knew that it had been a mistake to do so and the only thing that had made her come to her senses was her father's final advice.

 _Don't let rules stand in your way._

And she hadn't. She and Jack had finally had _that_ conversation, and while they still had a few details to work out, they both knew what they wanted and were determined to make sure they got it.

Before she could get carried away too much, however, Sam's eyes fell on the calendar. She tiled her head to the side and idly flipped through the pages until she reached today's date – 18 June – and froze.

Eyes widening, she felt herself swallow hard at the 'holiday' staring back at her. She worried her bottom lip between her teeth, quickly glanced up at the security camera and seeing it was still switched off, she grinned. With lightning speed, she jumped off the bed, calendar in hand and strode towards the door.

* * *

Jack looked up to find a slightly out-of-breath Carter standing in the doorway to his office. Immediately, his concern rose and he jumped to his feet.

"What's wrong?"

She shook her head and moved closer to the desk. "Nothing, sir."

He narrowed his eyes, studying her as if to make sure she was telling the truth, but seeing nothing to tell him otherwise, he slowly sat back down.

"Did you run on your way here?" he asked, gesturing to her flushed face.

"Uh, kind of. Umm..." She glanced over her shoulder before she moved towards the door and closed it, missing the General's eyebrows rise in surprise.

"Sam?"

"I'd like to request some time off."

"OK," he blinked. "When?"

When she hesitated, Jack's concern returned, but before he could say anything, Sam spoke. "I was thinking a few days from now."

He continued to observe her, and as if she could read his thoughts, she smiled softly. "I'm fine, sir, really. I just – I need a break from..." she trailed off, gesturing vaguely around her.

"Then consider it granted, Carter."

"Thank you, sir."

He continued to nod, but when he pursed his lips, Sam hid her smile – she knew what was coming next.

"Planning on going anywhere nice?"

When she suddenly began to fidget, his interest piqued, and if he looked close enough, he'd swear she was blushing.

"Umm, well, sir," she offered, "I've been thinking about trying something new, so I thought I might try my hand at… _fishing._ "

She held her breath and watched him process the information. His expression remained neutral and Sam desperately hoped hers was the same.

"Fishing," he answered casually as his gaze fell to the folder lying on the desk. "And where would you go _fishing_?"

"Well, I've heard there's this little cabin in Minnesota –"

"There is," he supplied quietly as he stood.

"– where the bass grow _this big_ ," she added with a knowing smile, gesturing with her hands.

"They do."

"So I thought I'd go and see for myself," she shrugged.

"I see."

"Yeah, but you see the funny thing is," Sam continued, wincing when her voice wavered. "I don't actually know how to fish."

She held her breath as the General slowly made his way around his desk and came to a stop just inches from her.

"You mean to tell me there's something you _don't_ know," he teased.

"Yes, sir."

"Funny."

"Yeah."

"Well then, _Samantha,_ " he drawled, sending a jolt of desire through her, "that is a problem." He took a step closer, smirking when Carter's breath hitched. "But luckily for you, I know just the man."

"I thought you might," she smiled.

"Is Thursday good for you?"

"Perfect," she whispered.

They stared at each other for a few seconds when they both seemed to remember where they were. Clearing his throat, Jack reluctantly took a step back while Sam's attention fell to the long-forgotten calendar in her hand.

"I, ah, I should get back," she said, gesturing with her thumb over her shoulder, but she waited until the General had resumed his seat before she continued. "Before I go though, I found this when I was going through dad's things."

When he stared at her blankly, she held up the calendar.

 _"Oh._ I did warn him when he forgot my birthday."

"Yes, sir," she laughed.

They fell into a comfortable silence when Jack added, "Is there something you wanted to tell me about it, or..."

Sam's expression softened as she watched him. She stepped forward, handed over the calendar and waited until he saw the date and put it all together.

She knew the instant he'd figured it out by the mischievous glint in his eye, and she suddenly found herself grinning as she moved towards the door.

"Happy Go Fishing Day, Jack," she said quietly, leaving one smirking General staring after her.


	172. Saunter

**Author's Note: Written for 'Sauntering Day' (19 June). Tiny addition to the scene in Moebius when Jack tells Sam she has packing to do.**

* * *

He'd just hip-checked her. In her lab. In front of the security cameras.

Hip-checked.

 _Her._

She wanted to call him back, ask him what he was thinking because they had agreed that they were going to keep their relationship quiet _and_ off base. And yet here he was, openly touching her – and not just a friendly pat on the shoulder or shake of the hand, but with his hip. Could he have been anymore intimate or telling?

Yet, she isn't annoyed. Surprised, maybe, but not angry.

The thrill that was still coursing through her body testified to that fact and she both loves and hates the way he can do that to her with just the smallest actions.

"Go, pack, Sam."

She whirled around to see him learning against the door frame, the box with the ZPM inside still in his arms and a smug smirk on his face.

"I'm not letting you get away," he added lightly, but his eyes were dark and intense. "Not again."

With that, he left and as Sam's heart raced at his words and she found herself looking forward to the trip to his cabin all over again.

But it still didn't change the fact that he'd just hip-checked her – and she wanted to make him pay.

Slowly, she grinned and a mischievous glint appeared in her eye.

Oh, yes. She was going to make sure she enjoyed herself in Minnesota.


	173. Vanilla

**Author's Note: Written for 'Vanilla Milkshake Day' (20 June). Missing scene for Threads.**

* * *

She just keeps driving, her mind racing with thoughts of her dad and Pete and the Gen– _Jack_ , she reminds herself. It's Jack now. Or, at least she thinks it is.

He promised her _always_ back at the SGC and she believes him, she really does, but they haven't mentioned the conversation since in the three days that have followed her father's death and it's driving her insane because the longer time goes without them speaking, the more she's doubting what 'always' actually means.

She pulls up alongside the kerb and looks up, surprising herself when she sees she is outside his house. Taking a deep breath, she prises her fingers off the steering wheel and decides she's nothing left to lose. It's been too long now and she's tired. She needs to know once and for all.

Except she doesn't know how to start the conversation because the last time she tried Kerry interrupted. She winces at the memory as she makes her way to his front door and she sends up a silent prayer that he is home alone.

With more strength than she realizes, she knocks on his front door and only has to wait a few seconds before it opens, his surprise at her arrival evident on his face. But before he can say anything, she blurts out her question.

"Chocolate or vanilla?"

Only this is incredibly important, she'd laugh at the speed of which his eyebrows rise at her question.

 _"Excuse me?"_

"Chocolate or vanilla?"

"Carter, are you –"

"It's not a trick question," she interrupts, "but if you had a choice, which one would it be?"

She knows she sounds crazy and the way he's looking at her confirms that he's about three seconds away from calling the SGC, but this is the only way that she can know for certain.

"I don't –"

"Lately I've been thinking," she says, her gaze never leaving his. "I thought chocolate was always the best option – the one I wanted to have, but couldn't," she explains, her voice wavering. "So, I decided to try and mo– I settled for vanilla instead," she amends, "but the more I thought about it, the more… the more vanilla seemed _wrong_. And kind of boring."

He crosses his arms across his chest and leans against the doorjamb in an attempt to look casual, but she sees a hint of understanding flash in his eyes.

"What's this about, Sam?"

His voice is soft and warm and everything she needs and wants and she has to swallow hard at the emotions stirring inside her.

"It's taken me a while to realize this," she says, taking a step closer, "but I need you to know that – that I really, _really_ love chocolate. I always have," she adds on a whisper.

She holds her breath as his gaze roams over her, his eyes dark and intense. Then, his lips twitch infinitesimally. "I've never been a fan of vanilla," he shrugs.

It's all she needs to hear and a choked sob escapes her, right before Jack pushes himself off the frame.

"C'mere," he murmurs, pulling her into his arms and holding her tight.

* * *

 **So, this one is a little weird I'll admit, and it's bugging me that these last few chapters have all revolved around Threads or Moebius.**

 **I also couldn't figure out why my stories weren't lining up with the chapter numbers and then I realized I submitted two fics for 14 June.**


	174. Indian Summer

**Author's Note: Written for 'World Motorcycle Day' (21 June).**

 **Episode tag for 'Children of the Gods'. For the purposes of this chapter, Ferretti has been discharged from the infirmary and is nicely on the road to recovery.**

* * *

Jack flipped the steaks on the grill, poured the rest of his beer over the meat and stood back. When the smoke cleared, he grimaced.

"You said well done, right?"

"If medium rare means well done, then... well done it is," Kawalsky answered despondently as he saw the charred remains of what should have been a large, juicy steak.

"Looks good, buddy. Thanks," Ferretti chuckled as he reached over and stuck a fork into his portion of the meat.

The three men ate in silence for a few minutes before Jack spoke. "It's been a hell of a few days."

His words were met with a mixture of snorts and wry laughter as both men nodded their agreement.

"Any word on Teal'c?"

He shook his head at Kawalsky's question. "We've a meeting with Colonel Kennedy tomorrow."

 _"We?"_ Ferretti chipped in.

"OK. So Teal'c and Hammond have a meeting with Kennedy. I thought I'd tag along," he shrugged.

"Wish I could be there to see that."

"The more the merrier," Jack grinned, only to frown when he realized he had finished his drink. "We need more beer."

As he grabbed three bottles of beer from the refrigerator, he decided to run the idea by the guys again. He'd said the comment lightly, but he wasn't kidding. He fully intended to bring as much support with him to the meeting tomorrow – including the rest of his new team. He still had to tell them about his plan, but decided he would so whenever they arrived. Daniel, he knew, would be there because at this moment in time he'd jump at any opportunity if he thought it would bring Sha're back; but Captain Carter was another matter entirely. Sure, he could order her to attend, but he wasn't sure if that was the best way to start their working relationship. They'd already had a couple of run-ins and he didn't want to invite any more. It was part of the reason he'd decided to hold an impromptu barbecue for his team – and Kawalsky and Ferretti. To try and mend the bridges they'd all burned during that oh-so-memorable first briefing. Before he could replay the meeting over in his head again, he glanced at the clock and frowned. Sam and Daniel were now twenty minutes late to the party.

He stepped back outside to leave the fresh beers with Charlie and Lou when he heard them talking quietly and he watched as they tried – and failed miserably – to hide their amusement. His gaze narrowed as he looked between the two and they shared another glance and reached for the bottles of beer he held.

"So, explain this to me again Lou," Charlie said. "Major Matt Mason?"

Jack's shoulders tensed ever so slightly, and the two men grinned.

"He was a spaceman action figure. Much cooler than G.I. Joe, in my opinion," he shrugged.

"Hey, I was a G.I. Joe kinda kid," Kawalsky retaliated. "What about you, Jack?"

Jack swallowed his mouthful of beer. "What's that?"

"Major Matt Mason or G.I. Joe?"

"I preferred yo-yos," he shrugged.

"Really? I thought you'd prefer the Captain – uh, I mean _Major,_ " he grinned.

 _"Easy, Charlie,"_ Jack warned as Ferretti started to choke on his beer.

"Sorry, Jack," he said. "I didn't mean –"

"Forget about it," he muttered.

A tense silence fell, broken by Kawalsky a few moments later. "The captain seems to be a good soldier."

"She is," Jack answered confidently. He was still getting used to having her on his team but he'd taken a look at her file following their first encounter and – on paper – she was very impressive. But then he'd seen a little of her in action and it had removed any doubts he may have had about her assignment to SG-1. "Her timekeeping skills could use a little work though," he added dryly as he turned to head back into the house. "I'll see if I can find out what's keeping her and Daniel."

As he made his way back into the kitchen, he grabbed his cell and started to punch in the number for the base, but just as he was about to dial, he heard the low rumble of a motorcycle engine. Frowning, he moved to the hallway and glanced out of the window to see a classic Indian motorcycle come to a smooth stop on his driveway. He closed the phone, opened the door and watched as the driver removed their helmet. His jaw dropped when he saw it was Captain Carter.

"Hi, sir," she smiled.

"Captain," he nodded, relieved when his voice sounded normal to his own ears. "Glad you could finally make it."

She flushed at his comment. "I'm sorry I'm late, sir, but I was waiting on Daniel and – well, he decided he'd rather spend the afternoon alone. He's missing Sha're," she added quietly.

"You don't need to explain," he shrugged, "although next time a heads up would be nice – I can't promise Kawalsky and Ferretti haven't eaten all the steaks."

She chuckled softly at his words and Jack felt a frisson of something stir in his chest. He shook his head and quickly tried to find something other than his second-in-command to focus on.

"Sweet ride," he said, gesturing towards the bike with his head.

"Thank you, sir."

"I didn't know you were into motorcycles."

"There's a lot about me you don't know, colonel."

His gaze snapped to hers but she was interestingly preoccupied, securing her helmet away on the back of the bike, but he didn't miss the smile on her lips and suddenly, he decided he wanted to know every single thing about Samantha Carter.

"You know, captain," he said lightly, taking a step closer and crouching by the motorcycle to run his fingers reverently along its body. "I don't like surprises. Yet you've managed to surprise me at every turn so far," he murmured. "What other secrets are you hiding away?"

He straightened and as a grin slowly shaped his lips, it took a couple of seconds for Sam to decide he wasn't berating her with his comment.

"If I told you that, sir…" She visibly relaxed and let her sentence trail off, but then she smiled at him, her blue eyes shining brightly with amusement – and mischief – and Jack suddenly realized he was in big trouble.

He thought he was joking when he'd lazily quipped that he _adored her already_ but now he wasn't so sure.

"Something tells me I'm going to have my work cut out with you, captain," he muttered as he gestured towards his house.

"Don't worry, sir," she chuckled. "I'll try to be on my best behavior."

He stood and watched her walk ahead of him confidently and despite trying not to let his imagination run wild, his grin widened at the thought of unravelling his captain's other secrets.


	175. Divulgence

**Author's Note: Written for 'Positive Media Day' (22 June). Set post-series.**

* * *

"I still think this is a bad idea."

Sam smiled placatingly at her husband as he hooked a finger under the collar of his shirt.

"It's been a long time, Jack," she admitted, taking a step closer, "but even you agreed that now was the time."

"Yeah," he sighed. "Seemed like a good idea at the time."

She chuckled softly at his petulant tone and she reached up to bat his hand away from his neck.

"It's uncomfortable," he defended unnecessarily.

He was just about to let his hand fall by his side, when he changed his mind at the last second and let his hands brush over Sam's hips and come to rest on the small of her back.

"I think you look hot," she shrugged as she fixed his collar before letting her arms loop over his shoulders, her fingers toying with the hairs at the nape of his neck. "Just like you always do."

"Ah, Carter." He groaned at the touch of her fingers against his skin and instinctively pulled her hips tightly against his. "Do you have to do that _now?_ "

With a cheeky smile, she leaned back to look at him. "What?"

"You know what," he chided lightly. "How am I meant to go out there when you're here, like this," he said, "and also looking freaking hot in your dress blues."

Sam threw her head back as a ripple of laughter escaped her and without thinking, Jack quickly leaned in and left a trail of hot, wet kisses along her neck.

"Jack," she said breathlessly. "We can't –"

A knock on the door had them quickly breaking apart, and Jack gave her a nod as he turned back to his desk.

"Come in," Sam called.

She smiled as Jack's aide stood in the doorway.

"The President is ready for you, sir. Ma'am," he nodded.

"Thank you," Jack answered. "We'll be right there."

The aide nodded once again before closing the door and standing guard on the other side.

As Jack took a deep breath, Sam made her way to his side and wrapped her arms around his waist.

"You are the Chief of Staff of the Air Force," she said quietly, but proudly. "You'll be fine – and I'll be right there with you," she added. "As will Daniel and Teal'c."

"This is going to change everything, you know."

"I know," she nodded. "But we'll face it together."

Jack's gaze roamed her face for a moment before he kissed her thoroughly. When he pulled back, Sam looked slightly dazed and he grinned.

"What was that for?"

"Because I love you," he shrugged, "and because I can."

She smiled – the smile that was reserved solely for him – and squeezed his hand tightly. "Come on," she said. "We don't want to keep the President waiting."

He opened the door and gestured for Sam to go first, but once they stepped out into the corridor and started to follow the aide and their security detail they walked side by side, their shoulders brushing together with every other step, and he risked snagging her pinky finger with his, winking when she met his gaze.

It _had_ been a long time coming, but despite his reservations it was now the _right_ time.

He was nervous, but Sam was also right when she said they would face whatever came their way together. Just like they had from the day they met at the SGC all those years ago.

Only then, they had worked in secrecy; their jobs hidden from the rest of the world. But now, the Stargate Program was about to become public knowledge and it was Jack's responsibility to let the people know what was really going on in Cheyenne Mountain.

He stole one final glance at the woman by his side and she looked back, unwavering. Confidence oozed out of her and he could feel her trust and belief in him seep into his bones.

Maybe the President was right. Maybe he was the right man to do this, because when Sam looked at him like that and smiled at him in that way, he felt like he could do anything.

* * *

 **I know Jack and public speaking don't go hand in hand, but if the President is going to trust anyone to help bring the Stargate public and ensure it receives positive media, it's going to be Jack he picks, because he's a good man and truly cared about the Program. I also decided to give Jack a promotion – because why not?**

 **This also really makes me want the third Stargate movie. Not even the movie. Just the script… so if anyone knows where I can get my hands on it (because one** _ **does**_ **exist), thank you. :)**


	176. Letting Go

**Author's Note: Written for 'Let It Go Day' (23 June), a day "to let go of your regrets and forgive yourself for actions taken in the past."**

 **In theory. This chapter doesn't quite go that way...**

* * *

With a grimace, Jack landed two more right hooks to the punchbag and swiftly followed through with a left uppercut. He grunted and grabbed a hold of the bag, stilling its movements as he tried to catch his breath. He closed his eyes and rested his head against the cool leather.

"I don't want to hear it," he mumbled.

Daniel's mouth snapped shut and a wave of sympathy flooded his features.

"I just heard," he said quietly, taking a step closer. "I'm sorry, Jack."

"I said I don't want to hear it," he repeated gruffly as he moved around Daniel and pulled off the boxing gloves, desperately trying to ignore the way the archaeologist watched his every move.

"She hasn't said yes."

"Let it go, Daniel," he sighed as he reached for his towel.

"It's already been two weeks," he added unhelpfully. "She doesn't know what to do."

Throwing the towel back onto the bench, the General spun on his heel and scowled at his teammate.

"Is there a point to this conversation?" he snapped.

He hesitated, surprised at the venom in his friend's voice. "It's just – I thought –"

"Spit it out, Daniel."

"Sam said you'd left in a hurry – after she told you about the engagement."

"In case you haven't noticed, I'm in charge of this place now," Jack fired back as he gestured vaguely around him. "I don't have time to hang around Carter's lab for hours on end."

"But you've time to hit the gym?"

 _"Daniel –"_

"Do you really think Pete is the right man for her?"

"Should we be talking about Carter's private life?"

"It's just a question."

"It's never just a question with you," he smirked ruefully as he turned and grabbed his belongings.

He started to make his way towards the door – only for Daniel to step in and block the way.

"It _is_ just a question, Jack. And I don't think he is," the younger man continued. "In fact," he said, standing taller and sounding more confident than before. "I know he isn't."

"I said to let it go, Daniel," Jack growled as he, too, imperceptibly straightened. "Now get out of my way."

"It's actually quite funny when you think about it."

Frustrated at Daniel's insistence on talking, he rolled his eyes. _"What?"_

"Well, Sam's taken two weeks to consider Pete's proposal and whether she is willing to spend the rest of her life with him," Daniel explained, his expression softening when Jack winced at his words. "Yet she would willingly give her life for you in an instant – and she doesn't need to consider her decision once."

His jaw tensed as he let his friend's words sink in and he sighed heavily.

"She deserves to be happy, Daniel."

"But is Pete really the one to do that?"

"Maybe you should ask Carter."

"Or maybe you should talk to her."

 _"Daniel –"_

"It's only a suggestion," he shrugged, stepping away from his friend and heading for the door, "but I know you, Jack."

"What the hell is that supposed to mean?"

"You've been through too much to just walk away from something you care about without a fight."

"You have no –"

"Don't make this into something you'll regret."

With that, Daniel disappeared, the door swinging shut the only sign that he'd been standing their moments earlier. Closing his eyes, Jack sighed and sat down onto the bench. He knew his friend was right; he would regret every single second that he let Carter go, but he couldn't tell her not to marry the cop. Despite his feelings for Sam, she was still under his command and he would never ask her to wait for him or expect her to give up her own career, just so they could be together. She deserved to be happy and have a family and if Pete could give her that and make her happy, then Jack could live with that. He wouldn't be happy about it, but as long as Sam was happy, that was all that mattered to him.

With hindsight, perhaps he should have pressed Sam slightly more and actually talked about the Za'tarc incident four years earlier. Maybe, he should have fought harder for his resignation to go through last year after the battle over Antarctica. And now, he knows that he shouldn't have walked out of Sam's lab and left her staring after him the way he did.

Jack slowly got to his feet. He appreciated Daniel's advice but he wasn't going to follow it. He couldn't. It wasn't fair to himself or to Sam.

This would just have to be another regret he'd chalk up in his life when it came to Samantha Carter and missed opportunities.


	177. Treading Water

**Author's Note: Written for 'Swim A Lap Day' (24 June). Alternate reality.**

* * *

He's just about to step into the pool area when he hears the sound of water splashing and he frowns. It's zero-four-thirty and the reason he comes to the gym at this time is so that he doesn't have to make small talk with anyone. He can just get in, get out and head to the base to start his day. But now it appears that the few moments of tranquillity he usually enjoys in the morning isn't going to happen today and his mood immediately darkens.

He's unable to make out who is interrupting his routine, but they are setting a good pace for each length of the pool they complete; their movements strong, confident, as their arms and legs cut through the water.

But then they finish their lap and effortlessly ease themselves out of the swimming pool and he is a little horrified to discover that the source of his disgruntlement is a woman. A very attractive woman. She's blonde and tall with legs that go on for days and she's wearing a black bikini that only accentuates every curve and muscle in her body. Jack quickly has to force his gaze away from her and swallows hard as he feels his blood rush south. He quickly weighs up if he has enough time to dive into the pool without causing himself any further embarrassment only for the stranger to freeze. Her gaze locks with his and once he gets over how clear and blue her eyes are, he can see surprise and intrigue mix with something else he can't quite identify.

"I didn't realize there was anybody else here," she says slowly. "I'm just leaving."

"Don't be going on my account," he quips, then realizes how it sounds. "I didn't mean – you can stay. I – you –"

"I know what you meant," she smirks, reaching for her towel. "I think."

Despite the awkwardness of the moment, he manages to throw her a half-smile and briefly wonders if he should say something else or just get into the pool. He throws his own towel onto the bench nearby and decides on the former.

"I thought I was the only person mad enough to be awake this early."

"Apparently not," she answers, her smirk morphing into a smile.

"I haven't seen you around here before."

She shakes her head. "I'm only in town for the week."

"Ah. For business or...?"

She goes to answer, but hesitates and it piques Jack's interest, especially when she settles for, "something like that."

"So," she quickly adds, "why are you here so early?"

"Air Force colonel," he shrugs. "Habit."

Something flashes in her eyes but before Jack can think too much about it, it's gone and they fall into a strange kind of comfortable silence. However, Jack's gaze unwittingly travels lower and he only realizes he's staring when she clears her throat, but instead of looking angry, she's blushing.

"How'd you know about this place?"

He seems surprised that he's asked the question, but the gym is a regular haunt for the off-duty officers at Cheyenne Mountain and he didn't think many others outside of the base knew about it. His confusion must show because she smiles again as she nears the pool.

"My brother told me about it," she says, "he's a member."

His brow rises in surprise. "Oh? Perhaps I know him."

She eyes him easily for a second before she answers. "Carter. Mark Carter."

His stomach plummets because he does know Mark and whilst Jack thinks he's a great guy and good at his job, it means that the woman standing before him is –

"You're General Jacob Carter's daughter?"

So much for wondering if he'd have the chance to get to know her better.

But she snorts at his question as she eases herself back into the swimming pool and he finds himself joining her. He suddenly wants to ask if her reason for being in the Springs is anything to do with the Stargate but before he can do anything, she grins at him and starts swimming. He watches her for a moment and then follows, matching her stroke for stroke, but sometime between becoming accidental swimming partners and actually exercising, it turns competitive. They are on their final lap and Jack is convinced he touched the side of the pool first, but then Carter throws her head back and laughs and he finds himself moving closer.

"What's your name?" he murmurs.

"Sam," she answers, and he tries not to focus on how breathy she sounds.

"Well, Sam," he says, placing one arm on either side of her, "since we can't decide on who won, what do you say we make this interesting?"

She watches him through dark eyes for a moment, then bites down on her bottom lip and nods.

"Loser buys drinks?"

"You're on," she says, a smile slowly creeping onto her face. "But there's just one more thing."

When he raises a brow she rolls her eyes. "If I'm going to kick your ass, I need to know _your_ name."

"Ah." He grins. "I'm Jack O'Neill."

He thinks about admitting that he's more than prepared for her to kick his ass, but before he can, Sam pushes away from him and starts swimming.

"That's cheating," he calls after her, but he doesn't really mind, because he has every intention of losing.


	178. Catfish

**Author's Note: Written for 'Catfish Day' (25 June). This day is supposed to celebrate the** _ **actual**_ **catfish…**

 **Another AU offering.**

* * *

"Double whiskey, please."

"Wow," she hears coming from her left and she turns towards the source to find a man, slightly older than herself, watching her out of the corner of his eye. "Bad day, huh?"

She studies him for a moment, noticing just how ruggedly handsome he looks sitting there in his leather jacket and jeans and the way his brown eyes shine with amusement – or mischief, she isn't quite sure – but she tears her gaze away when the bartender sets down her drink.

"First date," she offers wryly before she downs the alcohol and signals for another, missing how his eyebrows rise in surprise.

"Ah," he nods, pressing his lips together. "A little Dutch courage."

"Not exactly," she sighs before she slides onto the stool next to his. "What?" she asks a moment later when she sees him still staring.

He holds a hand up in surrender before he lifts his own drink and swirls the liquid around the bottom of the glass.

"Well, I was going to suggest you should maybe go easy," he shrugs, "but something tells me you can hold your liquor as well as I can."

At that, she smirks but sets down her drink. "It's a blind date," she admits. "Or rather, a set-up. My brother's idea – he thinks I need to get out more," she huffs, throwing quote marks around his reasoning.

"Let me guess," her companion interjects lightly, "but the guy's a jerk."

"He's nice enough," she hedges, meeting his eyes briefly before looking away, "but he's not the guy for me."

"Do you need rescuing?"

She shakes her head. "I'm fine."

"Yes, you are."

Even though he's mumbled it under his breath, it's still loud enough for her to catch and she wants to laugh at the look of panic that crosses his face, only for the fact that she thinks she really, _really_ wants to get to know him better. She doesn't know what it is – she can't explain the feeling – but it's like something is drawing her to him; something she can't – and doesn't quite want – to fight. She's about to ask his name when he speaks first.

"So, what's your kind of –"

"Samantha?"

Both she and the handsome stranger turn to find her date looking at her with a far too eager-to-please look in his eye.

"Pete," she says with a forced smile before he can say anything else. "I was just –"

"I'm Jack," the stranger suddenly says, reaching out to shake the man's hand. "I'm a friend of… Samantha's here, and we were just… catching up."

Pete looks to her for confirmation and she finds herself nodding.

"I'd invited her to join me for a drink," Jack adds, seeing Pete's reaction, "but –"

"We're on a date."

Sam wants to cringe at the way Pete says it and the way he stands protectively closer. Jack's amused expression doesn't help the situation, but she watches as he downs his drink, throws a few bills onto the bar and grabs his jacket to leave. He takes a moment to meet her eye, however, before he stands and she can read the unspoken message in his eyes. _Are you going to be okay here?_

She nods and he returns the gesture but then hesitates.

"If you change your mind," he says suddenly, "I'll be at the Chevron bar until late. It'd be good to see you again," he adds.

With that, he disappears into the crowd and it's only Pete's voice that pulls her attention back.

"So, Samantha," he says, "do you want to take this somewhere else?"

For the second time in as many minutes, she cringes but then she sees the door to the bar swing open and there's just a glimpse of a leather jacket before the door closes.

"Actually, Pete," she says. "I think we should probably call it a night."

She catches his disappointed expression but she refuses to be made to feel guilty and when he offers to drive her home, she shakes her head and says she'll order a cab. In the end though, it takes longer than she hoped it would to get rid of Pete and she briefly phones her brother to let him know that under no circumstances is he to ever set her up with someone again, before she exits the bar.

She has every intention of heading home, she really does, because she has absolutely no idea who Jack is or why, still, she's even remotely interested in seeing if his offer was genuine but somehow, she finds herself standing outside the Chevron bar. She steps inside and immediately catches sight of him sitting there, and when he raises his glass towards her, her stomach somersaults and she suddenly wonders why she doubted him. With every step closer she takes, his gaze never wavers from her and she knows that she's definitely made the right decision to join him.


	179. Conflicted Command

**Author's Note: Written for 'Canoe Day' (26 June). Missing scene for Scorched Earth, just before Sam and Jack have their little "standoff" over** **the** **Naquadah reactor** **. Also, I know they weren't exactly in a canoe, but I'm using a little poetic license...**

* * *

He tries to catch her eye once, twice, three times but she's resolutely refusing to meet his gaze. He doesn't blame her – he knows she is angry and upset at the situation and at him.

But he wants to tell her that he's sorry. He's sorry for placing her right into the center of this mess and for making her deliberately override the generator's function. He wants to tell her that he would never, ever force her to do something she doesn't want to do, but on this occasion, he has to make her do exactly that, because it's the best option they have.

 _For the greater good,_ he keeps reminding himself.

The mantra is easier to deal with than the memory of how Carter looked at him when he ordered her to make the bomb. Her disapproval, her disappointment, plainly clear to see and it's another painful reminder that he is not a good man.

But he wants to be, and it's why he desperately wants Sam to look at him – a flicker of a glance, that's all he needs – to try and convince her that he isn't a monster. Yet the words catch in his throat because deep down he isn't sure he even believes himself. Just weeks ago, he'd coldly ordered the iris closed on Alar, and whilst he knows it was the right thing to do – as harsh as the thought might seem to the rest of his team – what actually fills him with guilt is the way Carter stared at him in horror as the gate shut down. He never, ever saw that look in her eye before and he swears that he never, ever wants to see it again.

Unfortunately, his decision to help the Enkarans has done just that, but he is not going to apologize for his command decision as he knows it's the right thing to do.

But he is sorry for what his decision is doing to the unsteady balance of his already delicate relationship with Carter given what they've been through recently, and he isn't quite sure this is something they'll be able to get over.

And the thought of Sam not being able to look at him again, let alone forgive him or understand his decision, is what kills him inside.


	180. Ice, Ice, Baby

**Author's Note: Written for 'Bomb Pop Day' (27 June). Apparently, this is an ice lolly? So, I learned something new writing this! Set post-series. Pure fluff.**

* * *

Jack winces as his wife makes her way into the living room and gingerly sits down on the couch.

"You look –"

"Don't. Even."

"I was going to say better."

"Then you're a liar," she mumbles.

With a slight smirk, Jack reaches over and pulls her towards him and when she rests her head on his shoulder, he drops a kiss into her hair.

"I feel miserable."

"I'm sorry," he says, because he does genuinely feel guilty over the fact that she's suffering – and it's partly his fault.

"I thought the morning sickness was supposed to have stopped by now?"

"I don't know," he shrugs. "I think it depends on –" he stops abruptly at the glare Sam levels his way. "Yeah. Yeah, it should," he quickly agrees instead.

They sit in silence for a few minutes before Jack gently jostles her shoulder. "Think you can eat something?"

She turns a little green at his question and shakes her head, but then he frees his arm and tells her to wait there. Just seconds later he returns with an ice lolly and Sam's face brightens.

"Thank you."

"You betcha," he mumbles, pulling her closer once again.

"I love you, Jack," she says suddenly and he can't help the smile on his face.

"I love you too, Sam."


	181. Pierced

**Author's Note: Written for 'International Body Piercing Day' (28 June).**

* * *

"Carter?"

Sam closes her eyes and grits her teeth. "Yes, sir?"

"Were you in a hurry to get to work this morning?"

"As a matter of fact, sir, _yes_. I was."

But he knows that already. Just like he knows the more and more amusing he finds her current predicament, the more and more irate she becomes.

"I thought so," he murmurs, taking a step closer, and as much as she might appreciate the way he's looking at her at any other time, right now she just wants to wipe the smirk off his face. "Otherwise," he continues, his voice lowering so only she can hear, "you wouldn't be breaking regulations."

She briefly wonders how much trouble she would get into if she actually did hit her commanding officer, but then she realizes his lips are hovering by her ear and his breath tickles the side of her face and it fills her with a warmth she does _not_ need to feel right now.

"I'm sorry, colonel," she shrugs, hoping she sounds more calm and collected than she feels, "but this is completely Daniel's fault. If you need someone to blame, pick him."

"Why Daniel?"

She gives him a look that she hopes he translates as ' _really?_ ', but decides to enlighten him anyway.

"Because Daniel is the one who dragged us into the SGC at zero-three-hundred hours this morning over something _incredibly important,_ " she says, rolling her eyes, "and now I'm standing here half-naked because the people of PCC-975 think I'm their sun goddess."

"I think you look good," he shrugs, then realizing exactly how that sounds, he clears his throat. "I just mean – uh – that the pink, it – it suits you."

She snorts in response but looks down at herself and grimaces at the pink sari the locals have dressed her in. It's been twisted and weaved to cover her bottom half but the top leaves a lot to be desired. The material crosses over her chest and ties behind her neck, giving her a modicum of decency but that's about it. Her stomach is completely bare – which is how the colonel quickly noticed her piercing. A piercing she forgot to remove because she was in such a hurry, thanks to Daniel.

She sighs heavily and the movement causes her commanding officer's eyes to shift to her chest and she can feel herself flush under his gaze because there is no mistaking the look in his eye and for some reason she can't – or refuses to – explain, it strengthens her resolve and she finds herself slowly, teasingly taking a step closer. Her actions might be inappropriate, but the local villagers think she can do no wrong and think her teammates are her servants, so she decides she might as well have a little fun at their expense for a change.

"Carter?"

The colonel's voice is low and gravelly and she fights the urge to smirk, so he redirects his gaze only to focus on her stomach again.

"Sir?"

"How long?"

"Hmm?"

"How long have you..." he trails off as he gestures towards her piercing and she swears he's blushing.

"Since my Academy days," she shrugs nonchalantly. "I lost a bet."

She sees curiosity flash in his eyes and grins.

"What was the bet?"

"That, sir," she mumbles, her face now just inches from his, "would be classified information."

She doesn't wait to see his reaction, instead choosing to brush her shoulder against his as she exits the tent she's been put up in for the duration of their stay, but she can feel him watching her, his eyes leaving a burning hot trail up and down her body. **  
**


	182. Mud Pack

**Author's Note: Written for 'International Mud Day' (29 June).**

* * *

"Daniel," she growls, but the rest of her sentence is cut off by the loud laughter of her commanding officer coming from her right-hand side. Even Teal'c looks amused.

 _She's going to kill them all._

Starting with Daniel, because if he hadn't sneezed and subsequently lost his balance, resulting in him stepping back and straight into her, knocking her off her feet, she wouldn't be in this mess. Namely, covered head to toe in mud.

It smells, it's sticky and it is _everywhere._ All she wants is a hand out of the pit but none of her team seems able – or willing – to help her at this precise moment in time, because they find it hilarious.

She isn't sure if it takes one minute or five, but eventually the colonel composes himself enough to offer her a hand and it's just too tempting to refuse. Only she's had enough and for a reason she'll never admit to, she decides to use the mud to her advantage. So, when her commanding officer reaches down, she grabs onto his hand and pulls. _Hard._

He isn't prepared for the move and ends up losing his balance, almost landing on top of her as he joins her three-foot deep in the mud.

 _"Carter! What the hell?"_

"I'm sorry, sir," she says, even though she doesn't sound apologetic in the slightest, "my hand slipped."

 _"Your hand slipped?"_

"Yes, sir."

He narrows his gaze and studies her for a moment as she stares innocently back.

"You're a terrible liar, major," he murmurs.

She feels her lips twitch in response and his eyes suddenly darken, his expression almost smouldering as he gives her a once-over.

"But it is a good look on you," he adds and she swallows hard as he lowers his voice. "You know… the down and dirty look."

She's momentarily stunned so she isn't ready for the moment he nudges her shoulder and she ends up falling ass first back into the mud.

"Yeah," he smirks. "Definitely a good look on you, Carter."


	183. Set Fire To The Rain

**Author's Note: Written for 'Meteor Watch Day' (30 June).**

 **Missing scene for 'A Hundred Days'.**

* * *

Sam notices the colonel hovering awkwardly as she finishes setting up the equipment ahead of tonight's fire rain. She's stolen a few glances, just when he's been about to say something, only to seemingly change his mind at the last second. She can vaguely hear him mumbling under his breath, but can't catch the words.

She looks down and checks everything one last time before she wipes her hands on her BDUs and gets to her feet but when she turns, she jumps in surprise to find her commanding officer standing right there.

"Sir," she exclaims, a relieved chuckle escaping her, "you scared me."

"Sorry," he pulls a face, then glances around. "Listen, Carter, I ah – I wanted to ask you something."

"Oh, okay."

"The villagers are planning some kind of party for tonight, but I'd rather see this fire rain they've been telling us about for the past two days."

She frowns slightly, wondering where he's going with the thought, when he adds, "how well do you think your doohickeys will catch the event?"

"Well, sir, there are a number of factors involved, but –" she stops abruptly and then smiles softly when she sees his eyes start to glaze over. "The equipment should capture the data we need, sir, but as for actually witnessing the phenomenon, I would assume there's nothing better than the naked eye."

"Right. Right," he nods. "So, are you going to the party or are you..."

"I would rather stay out here," she admits quietly, "just to make sure everything does work out the way it's supposed to."

"Mind if I join you?"

"I'd like that," she smiles.

He seems almost relieved that she's agreed and it makes her smile widen.

"Okay," he nods. "Just give me a few minutes to let Laira know there'll be two less for dinner."

She watches him leave and sighs happily, her heart feeling strangely lighter than it has been in a while and as she settles down to wait on the fire rain starting, she tries not to focus on just how much she's looking forward to spending the evening under the stars with her commanding officer.

* * *

 **In my head, this is what happens, only for Laira to subsequently decide they should all watch the fire rain together and she completely gate-crashes their evening.**

 **I really, really dislike this episode. However, on a brighter note…**

 **Guys, we're officially at the half-way mark with this series! It's insane! I never,** _ **ever**_ **thought I would make it this far with this challenge (even if my timings have been a little out), but I honestly cannot say thank you enough to every single one of you. For every kudos, message and comment; for your words of encouragement, those of you who are my cheerleaders, those of you who continue to support me every single day when I can't find it to support myself. You're amazing. Thank you.**


	184. It's No Joke

**Author's Note: Written for 'International Joke Day' (1 July). This turned out more angsty than I'd planned…**

 **For agrainne24, who chose the holiday, and who may or may not, have had a say in the joke. ;)**

* * *

Sam waits as her computer powers down and sighs. She's worried about her dad and wants nothing more than to rescue him from Netu, but she's anxious because the entire mission is relying on her and her memories of Jolinar and she isn't sure she'll be able to do what is needed of her.

Recently, she's been trying to access those memories but to no avail. It's frustrating, but no-one else but her was waiting on results, so she was willing to try for a little longer before she contacted her dad to ask for help, but now it's different, because this is her dad's life, and Selmak's life, in the balance. Only she can get them back.

It's a terrifying and sobering thought and she can feel herself starting to panic when a shadow falls over the desk. She looks up, surprised to find her commanding officer staring at her. His expression is neutral, but his eyes are dark and questioning.

"You sure you're up for this?"

She feels herself nodding, but she guesses it convinces him as much as it convinces her and she shrugs.

"I need to do this."

"And you will."

"It's just..."

"It's Dad."

"Yeah."

Silence falls between them and Sam feels ridiculous at the sudden lump in her throat. She looks away, but not quick enough and he sees the unshed tears in her eyes.

"If you want me to tell Marty to back off –"

"No, it's fine, sir." She closes her eyes and takes a deep breath. " _I'll_ be fine."

"Then talk to me."

"What if I can't do this, sir," she whispers. "What if I can't access the information we need to rescue my dad and he's –"

"Carter," he interrupts. "We're going to get your dad out of there – with or without Jolinar's memories."

"I know," she sighs, "but –"

"Listen to me, Sam. Rescuing Jacob is the priority here, but so are you. If you need to stop at any time, just say. You're not doing this alone."

He speaks with conviction and she finds herself believing him that it's the first time she thinks the mission might just be a success. Her expression must reflect the change because the colonel's lips twist into a small smile, right before he asks, "think you'll be ready to ship out in thirty?"

"Yes, sir," she nods. "And thank you for the pep talk."

"Don't mention it," he says with a smile as he turns towards the door. "I'm not just here for my good looks and bad jokes, you know."

She watches him leave and shakes her head in fond amusement. She looks away for a second and she's just about to get to her feet when she notices the colonel standing at the far side of her lab bench again and she jumps.

"Sir?"

His expression seems lighter than it did moments earlier.

"Speaking of bad jokes…"

"Yes, sir," she answers carefully.

"What did the fish say when it swam into the wall?"

"I... have absolutely no idea."

"Dam."

There's a beat of silence as Sam lets the punchline sink in and despite the fact that she thinks it's actually quite a funny joke, she doesn't want him to know that, but her lips twitch before she finds herself smiling anyway.

She feels a little more pressure lift from her shoulders and something settles low in her belly when she realizes she really, _really_ enjoys these moments; when he has the ability to make her laugh or smile or _just feel better_ no matter how upset or angry she felt moments before.

A soft chuckle finally escapes her and Jack's grin widens, clearly pleased with himself.

"See you in the gateroom, Carter," he says as he casually raps his knuckles on the desk and turns on his heel.


	185. Unforgotten Promises

**Author's Note: Written for 'I Forgot Day' (2 July).**

* * *

 _I will always be there for you, no matter what. Believe me._

His promise echoed around Sam's head. Ever the scientist, she tried to tell herself that she was being irrational; that it was a hallucination.

That – as much as she wanted to believe otherwise – it wasn't the colonel who had uttered those words, but her subconscious playing a twisted joke.

Yet, if she closed her eyes, she could still hear his voice, feel his touch setting her skin on fire and the taste of his lips against hers as she finally kissed him.

It was not something she was ever going to forget, or even wanted to forget, and it renewed her resolve to find a way off the Prometheus and get safely home. To him.

Because now things felt different.

She could imagine their future because of his promise.


	186. Defiant Disobedience

**Author's Note: Written for 'Disobedience Day' (3 July). Takes place after the events of Metamorphosis, because if there was an episode where Sam and Jack were to accidentally slip-up, it'd be this one - in my opinion.**

* * *

Jack felt Sam's gaze drift lazily in his direction as he landed next to her on the bed with a soft thump, both of them sated and spent from their lovemaking.

Lying in contented silence, they tried to get their breathing back under control and after a few moments, he reached over and pulled Sam closer.

"Well, I wasn't expecting that," she murmured after a beat.

He froze at her words, his hold on her temporarily loosening as a look of mild alarm appeared on his face.

 _"Excuse me?"_ he half-questioned, half-demanded.

Realizing how her statement sounded, Sam's eyes widened in surprise, right before she started to giggle. Jack, to his credit, waited as patiently as he could as Sam buried her face against his shoulder and continued to laugh. Slowly, his own lips started to twist into a smile. He loved the sound of her laughter – it was something he didn't hear nearly enough. Turning his head, he let his lips brush against her ear.

"Way to stroke a guy's ego, Carter," he murmured.

Unfortunately, his comment only served to make Sam laugh harder, despite their current situation.

"I'm sorry," she chuckled. "I didn't mean it the way it sounded."

"Then what _did_ you mean?"

His question was met with silence as Sam composed herself. When she spoke again, all traces of amusement had gone.

"This. Us. _Here._ "

Jack ran a hand over his face before letting it rest on the small of Sam's back. " _Carter_ –"

"I hadn't planned on coming here, you know," she interrupted. "I was out driving. I didn't think – when I arrived here, I was thinking about our latest mission and..." She trailed off as a shiver ran down her spine.

Closing his eyes as he tried to repress his own shudder, Jack wrapped his other arm around her waist and pulled her tight against his chest. He knew he needed the reassurance as much as she did; to make sure that she really was alive and well and that, once again, they'd been lucky.

"It was a close one," he eventually admitted.

"Too close."

"Yeah." He shifted slightly so he could see Sam's face, "but you're still here. That's all that matters now."

When she smiled at him, he ran a hand slowly along the length of her back and as her skin met his once more, the touch sent sparks of electricity soaring through his body. It was then, that the magnitude of their actions hit home.

Everything had happened so quickly. He remembered Sam turning up on his doorstep and he'd silently stepped aside and let her into his home. They'd had a beer, made small talk, and then one of them – he vaguely thought he was responsible – brought up Nirrti and her DNA re-sequencer. The next thing he knew, they were kissing, hands were exploring and clothes were being divested. It had been just one shared moment of weakness, but it had been enough to not only unlock _that_ room, but to blow it to hell.

Realistically, Jack knew he should feel remorse for his actions, but in reality, he didn't and even though that admission should have worried him more than it did, they had come too close this time to losing everything. They both knew it.

There had been just seconds between Sam surviving Nirrti's experiment or not, and even after the team had returned home and she received a clean bill of health by Frasier, it didn't seem enough this time. Because Jack's mind continued to linger on the thought of what his life would be like without the woman currently in his arms, and the thought left him with an empty, hollow feeling – one he hadn't felt since he'd lost his son, and one he swore he never wanted to experience again.

The gentle touch of a hand on the side of his face pulled him back from his thoughts and he saw Sam watching him, concern shining in her eyes.

"Sir?"

He didn't answer. Instead, all he could do was gaze at her.

"Jack? Is everything okay?"

He huffed out a laugh at the question.

Everything wasn't okay. It hadn't been for a while.

He had been attracted to Sam from the moment she'd walked into the Briefing Room six years ago. Yet he never thought those feelings would stick around and develop into something so much more. When they'd been trapped on Apophis' battleship two years ago and he'd met Sam's eyes across the forceshield, he had been blindsided by his feelings. He knew then that he was in trouble. He had fallen in love with his second-in-command.

But now? Now, Jack was a dead man whenever it came to Samantha Carter.

Now, he'd had a taste of what it was like to be with her in every sense – and he wasn't about to let it slip through his fingers. He heard her ask again if everything was okay.

"Yeah," he finally said, never breaking their gaze. "It will be."

Seemingly satisfied with his answer, Sam was the one to break the stare. Her attention fell to his chest, her fingers tracing random patterns across his skin.

"This changes things, doesn't it?" she whispered.

"I think things changed a long time ago, Sam," he said meaningfully.

"So... what now?"

He pursed his lips as he thought over what to say. He really didn't know what do – for them or for their duty.

"We'll figure something out, I promise," he sighed, pressing a kiss to her temple.

It took a few seconds before she relaxed against him, and he closed his eyes and tried to do the same. It was virtually impossible however as his mind was now racing as to what the future would hold.

For now though, he was just happy to be able to hold Sam in his arms. **  
**


	187. Ablaze

**Author's Notes: Written for 'Barbecue Day' (4 July). Set during early season 1 – alternate reality.**  
 **  
This was meant to be just a few hundred words… and then it escalated, so it's more like a selection of snapshots of the day that takes place.**

* * *

With SG-1 seeming to want to take it in turns as to which of them is going to perish next on whatever planet they visit, General O'Neill decides that they all need a break and invites the team – Daniel, Teal'c, and Ferretti – as well as George Hammond to his house for a barbecue on Saturday afternoon. He passes along a message to Fraiser and is just about to go and track down Catherine when she appears in the doorway.

"Jack, I have those files you wanted."

He shoots her a disbelieving look and she smiles. "Okay, I have the files you _need_ – the ones you have to send to the President?"

His expression doesn't change as she enters the office unperturbed, taking up residence on one of the comfy leather chairs at the other side of his desk.

"Speak to George," he answers lightly, throwing his pen down. He leans back in his chair and holds her gaze as she studies him. "What's on your mind, Catherine?"

"Nothing."

He grins knowingly and waves a finger in her direction. "Try again."

This time she sighs and Jack isn't sure if it's a good or bad thing.

"Do you ever leave this mountain, Jack?"

"Sure I do."

"I mean other than to go home and sleep. I know you're in charge around here, but…"

He raises a brow. "But?"

"It might be good for you to get out there a bit _more._ "

"Catherine, as much as I love you –"

"Not with me, Jack! _Honestly!_ "

He laughs and hopes it is enough to appease her, but it's Catherine and it's not, and he's suddenly reminded of what his grandfather used to tell him.

 _There's something about a woman with a loud mind that sits in silence, smiling, knowing she can crush you with the truth._

He doesn't want to think about what it means for him right now as Catherine smiles knowingly at him, but he finds himself speaking before he realizes.

"I'm having a barbecue on Saturday. Just a few people, nothing fancy," he confesses, and hopes it's enough to save him from 'getting out more' for a while longer. "You're naturally invited – and expected to attend," he adds with a smile.

He's being studied again and he tries not to shift in his chair.

"Can I bring anything?"

"You still make those delicious apple pies?"

A smile is his answer and he resists the urge to punch the air in delight but then the phone rings, cutting short their conversation and Catherine gets up to leave. She reaches the door when Jack holds a hand over the receiver.

"Extend the invite to your good doctor," he says. "Something tells me Carter doesn't get out much either."

* * *

They are only a few days into July but already the day of the barbecue turns out to be the hottest of the year, so Sam decides – against her better judgment – to wear a light summer dress and sandals as opposed to jeans. She wears pant suits to work most days but only because it's more practical, not because she actually wants to, and the dress she picks out is more fitted that the others she owns, but she likes how it makes her feel and she figures that as she's going to a supposed casual get-together at her boss's house, she's going to need all the confidence she can get.

She still thinks Catherine is wrong and the invite is a mistake; that she's only been asked to attend out of pity. So, she waits for the phone to ring and a reason to surface as to why she shouldn't go, but none is forthcoming and an hour later she finds herself reluctantly trailing behind Catherine as she knocks on the General's front door.

He's relaxed when he finally greets them and it takes Sam a couple of seconds to recognize him out of his uniform. Catherine mutters something intelligible that makes him grin and he takes the pies from her hands.

"Glad you could make it, Doc," he says, turning his attention to Sam and giving her a quick onceover. Their position in the doorway is cosy to say the least and he's looking down at her with an unreadable expression and his voice is husky when he adds, "You look nice."

She smiles at the simple compliment but says nothing as her stomach does a funny little flip and she no longer trusts her own voice.

As she makes her way through his home however, she muses that it's actually quite nice and whilst it isn't exactly what she was expecting – even though she doesn't know what she was expecting – it suits him. It's definitely a man's home, but it just screams 'The General' and she finds herself relaxing ever-so-slightly. So, she accepts a glass of wine and follows Catherine into the back yard where she's quickly pulled into a hug by George. She sees the General frown at the interaction and for the first time she wonders if Jack realizes that she knew George prior to her appointment at the SGA. Minutes later, Ferretti joins the conversation, and the General shoos them off the deck and towards the chairs positioned in the middle of the yard. The distance between them is now almost enough for Sam to forget that Jack keeps stealing glances at her.

She's happy to just sit and listen to the conversations taking place around her, answering or speaking when it's appropriate, but then Ferretti announces it's his turn to take the drinks order. He takes their requests and Sam watches him leave, only to see him take a detour and join the General and an animated-looking Daniel on the deck. She isn't able to make out what is being said but when the General suddenly meets her gaze through the haze of barbecue smoke and Daniel takes a step back, his hands splayed out in front in a placating gesture, she shifts uncomfortably in her chair. Ferretti looks like he is trying not to laugh, but his smile soon disappears when Jack pushes the barbecue tongs against his chest and points at the meat on the grill. Feeling a little uneasy, Sam diverts her attention back to the conversation Janet and Catherine are now having to her right, but then a body flops into the empty chair beside her and she jumps.

"Nerves bad, Doc?"

"Not usually."

"So, apparently I'm a bad host because I haven't spoken to you in the twenty minutes since you've arrived."

His words are light, but there's a slight edge to them that makes her frown.

"Didn't you greet me at the door?"

He casts her a sideways glance and shrugs. "Social etiquette dictates I'm supposed to do more than that."

"You sound like Daniel."

He snorts into his beer and they fall into a companionable silence.

"Speaking of Daniel," Sam adds. "He seems… excitable."

She notices the way he tenses slightly at her words but all he offers is a non-committal grunt.

"If he sent you over here to keep me company, I'm fine."

"Yes, you are," he murmurs, then realizes what he's said and how it must sound as he quickly tries to mask his surprise and drains the rest of his beer. "Do you want another drink?"

He lets the bottle hang loosely between his fingers and Sam's mouth suddenly goes dry. Another drink sounds _really_ nice, but she declines any alcohol. She hasn't had anything to eat since breakfast and doesn't want to make a fool of herself, so she finds herself asking for a diet soda instead – and quickly feels her face grow hot at his disbelieving look.

 _"Diet soda?"_

"I like the taste better," she argues defensively to his back as he strolls towards the house. Inadvertently, she finds her gaze lowering before she realizes what she's doing and hopes that no-one else saw her.

 _"Doc!"_

Everyone turns to look at the General but he appears unflappable as he gestures for her to join him in the kitchen. On legs steadier than she feels, she steps onto the deck, and tries to ignore the way she can feel Daniel's eyes on her, or the way Ferretti knocks her elbow as she passes.

"For some reason, Doc," Jack says as soon as she steps inside, "I actually do have diet soda. Do you want a glass?"

"Please," she smiles, then takes a deep breath, "and it's Sam."

"Hm?"

"You can call me Sam – rather than 'Doc', you know."

"Did you know you can call me Jack?"

"I – uh –"

"It's not that hard," he grins. "It's my name."

She rolls her eyes, but can't help the smile that tugs at the corner of her lips. "Fine… _Jack._ "

His name sounds strange on her lips but she thinks it's an issue she could quickly get over. "Thank you for the drink."

"Don't mention it," he says, giving her another onceover. "You hungry?"

* * *

The rest of the afternoon goes surprisingly well in Sam's eyes and she finally has the opportunity to have a proper conversation with Teal'c. Even though she thought he had an intimidating presence, she's discovered that she really enjoys his company and feels safe when he's nearby. He doesn't necessarily say much, but when he does it's worth listening to. She asks him questions about Chulak and the Goa'uld, while he asks her about some of Earth's more unique cultural references and idioms. Yet her highlight has to be the look on the Jaffa's face when the food is finally ready and Jack places a tray of sausages on the table and proudly says, "'dogs are up".

* * *

Sam and Catherine were the last to arrive to the barbecue, but they are also the first to leave, with the latter admitting she is starting to tire. The others also get to their feet and take turns to hug them both goodbye, adding that they'll see them in work on Monday.

Jack walks them to the front door and hugs Catherine warmly before she retreats to the car. He hesitates slightly before wrapping an arm around Sam's shoulders, but she only gets as far as a hand on his waist before he pulls back and thrusts his hands into his pockets. It's more than a little awkward and she knows that she should go but there's something that's been bothering her all afternoon.

"Why me?"

He raises his eyebrows in surprise and she blushes, but she clarifies her question and when she asks why no-one else from her department – or any other head of department – appears to have been invited today, he gives a lazy shrug and quietly says, "I like you."

She feels stupid as tears prick at the corners of her eyes, but she's overwhelmed by his sincerity, and for the first time since her appointment to the SGA, she feels like part of the family, as opposed to just being their resident egghead.

"Thank you," she finally whispers and turns to leave.

She knows Jack is watching her as she gets into the car, but she doesn't mind, because she thinks she might just like him too.

* * *

 **I hope my American followers had an enjoyable 4** **th** **July!**


	188. Beachhead

**Author's Note: Written for 'Bikini Day' (5 July). Set during The Light, when the team are waiting until they have the all-clear to go home.**

* * *

The colonel cast a concerned glance at his second-in-command as she curled her fingers deeper into the sand and inhaled sharply. The light was affecting her more than the rest of the team.

"I'm sorry, Carter."

She turned her head slightly and met his gaze. "Sir?"

"I know you like the beach, but when Janet said we'd have to spend another week here, this probably isn't what you had in mind."

"No, it's not," she conceded with a small smile, but he could hear the strain in her voice. "It's probably for the best though."

"Yeah?"

"It's fine," she shrugged. "It's not like I stashed a bikini in my pack anyway."

His eyes widened at her words, but he appreciated the fact that even though her emotions and body chemistry is all over the place, she can still find moments of relief to help her get by. And then, for some reason he will forever blame on the fact that the light has messed with him too, and not because he suddenly envisioned Sam in a bikini, he nudged her shoulder with his.

"One day, I'll take you to the beach."

She looked at him in bemusement, but he could feel her shoulder press against his.

"I mean it," he nodded. "No bad guys, no rules, no pesky teammates to interrupt… just the two of us. What do you say, Carter?"

"That sounds like fun… sir," she smiled.


	189. Kiss Me In The Morning

**Author's Note: Written for 'International Kissing Day' (6 July).**

* * *

He closes his eyes as Sam's lipssoftly press against the corner of his before they move a little lower and trace his jawline. He turns his head to the left and captures her lips with his, wanting to take things slow this first time.

But he pulls back just enough so that when he opens his eyes, he sees hers are wide and dark and expressive.

He bumps his nose against hers, and as he makes his way around to her ear, her breath hitches. He places a kiss against her temple and bringing his lips to her ear, whispers, _"I love you, Carter."_


	190. To Tell The Truth

**Author's Note: Written for 'Tell The Truth Day' (7 July). Set early season 7, shortly after Daniel re-joins SG-1. References to Window of Opportunity.**

* * *

"So, I take it we don't receive too many missions like this," Daniel said as he sank down onto one of the large, fallen trees in front of the campfire.

"Like what?" Sam asked as she passed him an MRE and settled to his right.

Smiling his thanks, he sniffed at the meal conspiratorially as he answered. "You know... quiet."

Before Sam could answer, a voice came from the other side of the campfire.

"Oh, yeah! We get them _all_ the time. Getting captured and tortured by bad guys is just something we do for fun when we get bored," Jack deadpanned from his spot on the adjacent tree.

The younger man instinctively rolled his eyes at the comment, then frowned.

"Uh, that's one of your jokes, right?" Daniel asked slowly.

He had officially been reinstated to the flagship team a week ago, and despite most of his memories returning, he was still trying to decipher Jack's sense of humor. That, and as he remembered various details from their missions, he wondered if they really did go out of their way to find trouble. As if reading the younger man's mind, Jack grinned before he tucked into his own meal.

Over dinner, the team silently seemed to agree that as it was Daniel's first mission back with them, they would regale him with some of the more light-hearted moments from their missions over the past six years, but somewhere along the way, the conversation shifted to the time when they were all stuck in the time loop and Jack realized too late to stop the discussion without causing suspicion, so he decided to just let Teal'c share his exploits. He couldn't help but smile however as he listened to his friend admit that he locked an airman in a storage closet, or how they learned an Ancient language, or started a food fight in the mess hall, or the loop where they took an impromptu trip into the Springs to see a rodeo.

"So, is that everything?" Daniel asked as he wiped the tears from his eyes.

When Teal'c hesitated, then looked to Jack, their teammates naturally saw the movement.

"Jack?"

"I, ah, taught T how to use a potter's wheel."

Sam straightened. "You can make pottery, sir?"

"Don't sound so surprised, Carter," he rebuked defensively before he shrugged. "When you're stuck reliving the same ten hours over and over – and _over_ again, you tend to pick things up."

"Right," she answered sheepishly. "So, is that everything you did, sir?"

Jack froze at the question, the forkful of food he was about to shove in his mouth hovering just in front of his face.

"Yup."

"Teal'c?"

"I can assure you Major Carter that I have shared with you everything I experienced within the time loops."

Sam studied her friend carefully. She was about to look away when she noticed the gleam in Teal'c's eye and she turned back to her superior officer.

"There's something you're not telling us, isn't there."

It was a statement, not a question and as Jack reluctantly met her eye, she arched a brow. Jack licked his lips, placed his MRE on the ground and folded his arms across his chest.

"What makes you think I'm hiding something?"

"I don't know," she shrugged, "but there's... something."

"Something?"

She glanced at Teal'c, then Daniel and took a deep breath.

"Well, the first time we asked about your 'looping', you, ah... you kept giving me funny looks."

Jack quirked a brow at her words, forcing her to continue.

"You, ah... smiled. At me. Sir."

He snorted. "And me smiling is a strange occurrence for you, is it Carter?"

" _No!_ No. I just – _like that!_ " She suddenly accused, pointing a finger at him. As soon as his amusement appeared however, it disappeared as the color drained from Jack's face.

"Wh–"

"That smile. I only remember you using it after the time loops," she explained, resolutely hoping none of her teammates could see her blushing.

Suddenly, Jack shifted from his spot on the ground as he tried to ignore the curious gaze of Daniel and the incredibly smug smile Teal'c directed at him.

"I, ah..."

"So, you did do something?"

He hesitated slightly, his voice barely traveling over the campfire. "Maybe."

"I knew it!"

Her soft laughter carried over their camp as the colonel's discomfort multiplied, but her amusement was short-lived when his gaze turned intense and he refuses to look away from her.

She swallowed nervously. "What did you do, sir?"

Jack closed his eyes and took a deep breath. He tried to think of a way out of answering Carter's question, but his military mind was unresponsive, and the longer he sat in silence, the more concerned Sam became.

"Sir?"

"Ikksmmuum."

"I'm sorry. What?"

Jack sighed, the words leaving his mouth before he realized.

"I kissed you."


	191. Enforced Relaxation

**Author's Note: Written for 'SCUD Day' (8 July).** **SCUD Day stands for** _ **Savor the Comic, Unplug the Drama Day**_ **, and "encourages those of us whose lives might have a touch too much drama to step back, relax, and enjoy the funnier side of life."**

 **Set during season 4, when Sam and Jack were at their most flirtatious… and when Teal'c** _ **knew.**_

* * *

Jack scanned the vast space before the team as he tried to source any potential threats, but it was empty except for a woman at the other side of the room. Years of Black Ops told him that you could never be too careful, however, especially in a place like this – where he wouldn't want anyone to find him.

With a sigh, he led the way, vaguely registering his teammates following, and he came to a stop at the long, oak desk. He'd just placed his duffel on the ground when the woman at the other side of the desk smiled.

"Good morning, Sirs. Madam," she nodded. "Welcome to The Springs Resort and Spa."

When Jack mumbled something under his breath, Daniel elbowed him in the ribs – _hard_ – and frowned. _"Jack!"_ he hissed.

With a sigh, the older man turned his attention back to the receptionist, only for Daniel to interrupt.

"We have a booking."

"Of course, sir," the receptionist said, her smile faltering slightly as she glanced between them. "For all four of you?"

"Yes," Daniel confirmed. "The name's, uh –"

"Murray."

A beat of silence passed between the four members of SG-1 as they looked at Teal'c before a snort to Jack's left drew his attention. He turned to see Sam trying not to laugh. Raising a brow in question, she just shook her head, then turned and headed towards the vacant seats dotted around the reception area. He watched her go for a second and then turned back to the other half of his team.

"Think you can handle this, _Murray?_ " he asked with a pointed look and gesture towards the receptionist.

"Indeed."

With that, Jack spun on his heel and crossed the foyer, sitting down on one of the large, plush armchairs opposite Carter. He sighed heavily, and Sam gave him a placating smile.

"It'll be fine, sir. It's only for a couple of days. Maybe it'll be relaxing."

"Hmm," he answered dubiously, casting another glance around. "I still can't believe Hammond signed off on a two-day vacation for us – _to a spa._ "

A soft chuckle escaped Sam at his petulant tone and he narrowed his eyes.

"While we're on the subject of relaxing," he quipped, "let's get one thing straight. This is a vacation, Carter. _Vacation._ That means no work, no doohickeys, no mention of doohickeys, and absolutely no talk of anything work-related _whatsoever._ Is that understood?"

"Yes, sir."

"Good," he nodded. "The order also covers you calling me 'sir', so cut it out."

"Yes, si–" She pursed her lips together at her slip-up but then smiled and he felt the corners of his own lips turn upwards.

"So," he said lightly a moment later, his eyes yet to leave hers. "Think you're actually going to be able to relax for the next couple of days?"

"I'll try," she answered wryly, looking just over his shoulder as Daniel and Teal'c approached.

"What are you going to try?"

Jack glanced at his friend as he waved a hand vaguely in Sam's direction. "Carter's just said she's going to try and _relax._ For once."

"Oh," Daniel said, his eyebrows rising slightly, before he frowned. "Well, that's… that's good actually." He hesitated and Jack stared at him.

"What's wrong?"

"There's been a slight mix-up with the booking."

"What kind of mix-up?" Jack's voice was low and dangerous and he could see Sam wince out of the corner of his eye.

"Um, well," Daniel mumbled. "It seems Tea – uh, _Murray_ – uh –"

"I have purchased us the deluxe suites on the sixth floor," Teal'c interrupted.

"That doesn't sound so bad," Sam interjected.

"Yeah," Daniel sighed, "but there's only two suites on that floor."

"OK," Jack said, a sinking feeling in his gut.

"And – uh, Murray has –"

"I have requested that Daniel Jackson be my roommate for the duration of our stay here."

 _"What?"_

"Teal'c, I don't think –"

Jack quickly met Teal'c's gaze and he'd swear he saw the glint in his friend's eye.

 _"Oh, for crying out loud!"_

"I have made my decision," Teal'c nodded. "Come, Daniel Jackson."

The Jaffa picked up his duffle bag and turned towards the elevators, and Daniel absently adjusted his bag over his shoulder. "It'll be fine, Jack," he said, catching the look of thunder on his friend's face and quickly taking a step back to follow Teal'c. "Just… do what you told Sam."

 _"Excuse me?"_

"Just… try and relax."

 _"Shut up, Daniel!"_

With another sigh, Jack glanced at Sam out of the corner of his eye and she shrugged helplessly.

"This vacation had better be worth it," he grumbled as he headed to the elevator and resolutely chose to ignore the smirk now on his second-in-command's face.


	192. Sugar Cookie Smile

**Author's Note: Written for 'Sugar Cookie Day' (9 July).**

* * *

The shadow falls over her desk and she doesn't need to look up to know who it is. Lately, she's been able to just… tell.

Whether it's sitting across the briefing room table, or across a campfire, or walking along one of the SGC's many corridors, she's felt his eyes on her or the ghost of a touch as they pass. It's nothing, she thinks, but it's also _something._

She risks a glance up and sees him standing awkwardly a couple of feet away from the lab bench, his hands shoved deep into the pockets of his BDUs as he rocks back on his heels. She frowns at his unease.

"Is everything okay, sir?"

"Yeah," he says quickly, but then his brow furrows slightly, as if he's rethinking something, but the indecision is then gone in the blink of an eye, and he nods once. "Yeah," he repeats quieter, but more confident.

He pulls one hand free and runs his knuckles along the edge of the bench. "Janet's brought in some cookies," he says, his attention on the shapes he's randomly tracing with his fingers. "Cassie baked them – with a little help from a certain Air Force Major," he adds.

Sam can feel herself flush at his words. It isn't that she's embarrassed about the colonel discovering that she _can_ actually be quite domestic, but she's always given the impression that she… well, isn't.

She glances towards her computer screen, and lifts a shoulder. "Yeah," she finally admits.

There's a slightly awkward silence that falls, before Jack's gaze flicks to her face. "I didn't know you could bake."

"I can," she says slowly, "but not very often."

"Those cookies… they were just sugar cookies, right?"

There's something about the way he speaks. His tone taking on a soft, almost preoccupied note that she's never really noticed before.

"Yes, sir," she nods. "Are you sure everything is alright, colonel?"

He purses his lips but doesn't say anything and as Sam studies him, she realizes that he suddenly seems… bashful.

She's just about to tell him it doesn't matter, when he looks at her. His eyes are dark and piercing, intense and open, and she sucks in a breath.

"They tasted good," he says. "They remind me of the cookies I once made with Charlie."

His words are barely above a whisper, but they sound loud in the otherwise quiet lab and Sam isn't quite sure what to say.

"Thank you."

She cants her head at his thanks, and he shrugs, then breaks the stare. "Some days are harder than others," he mumbles and despite the lack of details, she knows he's talking about his son. "Today," he takes a breath, then reaches up and scratches the back of his neck. "Today was one of those days – but the cookies… they helped. In a weird kind of way."

Sam has to swallow hard at the lump that's formed in her throat; she had no idea that he needed something to help him through the day, but the fact that she randomly decided to bake cookies with Cassie is the thing helping him get through isn't lost on her.

"Thank you," he says again and she watches as a range of emotions flit through his eyes, telling her exactly how thankful he really is.

The words leave her before she can stop them – not that she actually wants to, she realizes afterwards.

"There's always more where they came from," she says softly.

She doesn't add _for the bad days_ but she knows he hears it and she's rewarded with one of those rare, soft Jack O'Neill smiles that makes her knees go weak. He taps his knuckles gently against the lab bench and takes a step back.

"Thanks, Sam," he whispers before he turns and leaves her sitting alone in her lab.

"You're welcome, Jack," she whispers.


	193. Don't Worry, Bee Happy

**Author's Note: Written for 'Don't Step On A Bee Day' (10 July).**

* * *

"Sir, stop!"

 _"Ow!"_

"Are you ok–"

 _"Son of a –"_

"Colonel, you need to –"

 _"Carter!"_

Sam winced at her commanding officer's tone. The bee had been resting on the fallen tree trunk, but she'd only caught sight of the bug a moment before the colonel sat down. Usually, a sting would be the least of their worries on a mission, but the insects on this planet were three times the size of those on Earth, so when they did decide to leave their mark, _they left their mark._ She was just about to ask the colonel again if he was okay when the color drained from his face and she surged forward as he swayed on his feet.

"Sir," she said, holding firmly onto his upper arm. "Is it – uh –"

"It's still there, Carter," he said through gritted teeth. "I think."

She glanced at his face and noticed the beads of sweat quickly forming on his face and she swallowed.

"We need to get a closer look."

He cast her a sideways glance, but no funny quip followed and she frowned.

"I'm not gonna lie to you, Carter – it hurts."

She bit her bottom lip and her frowned deepened. He _never_ admitted when he was in pain and her concern increased immediately.

"I'll recall the guys and –"

Jack shook his head abruptly, his arm now finding its way around her shoulder as she helped him to the ground and then moved to get the medical kit.

"No time," he grimaced. "You need to do it."

Her eyes widened and she spun on her heel to face him. _"Me?"_ she squeaked. "With all due respect, sir, I really don't think I –"

"Carter, it's stung me in the ass! _Get the hell over here. Now!_ "

"Yes, sir," she mumbled, quickly returning to his side. She let her eyes roam over his BDU-clad behind and was silently impressed with herself when she didn't get distracted by the thought. Instead, her eyes focused on the bee that was indeed still attached to the colonel's pants.

"Okay," she said quietly. "I'm going to take a look, sir, but I really think we need to get you back to the SGC as well."

"What– whatever – you say," he mumbled, his head now resting on his hands which had been curled into fists.

She thumbed her radio as she pulled the med kit closer. "Daniel, Teal'c," she said. "Head back to camp now. The colonel's going to need medical attention."

When they confirmed they were on their way back, Sam leaned closer.

"Try not to move, sir."

She studied the bee for a moment, deciding how best to go about trying to remove it, when the colonel's strained voice pulled her from her thoughts.

"It seems a little – extreme – don't you – don't you think?"

"Sir?"

"If you – wanted a reason to – check out – my ass," he panted. "You only – had to ask."

Her gaze snapped to his but his eyes were, perhaps conveniently, squeezed shut. However, she could just make out the slight quirk of his lips and she felt herself breathe a sigh of relief. If he was still able to joke, she knew he'd be okay, so she returned her attention to his ass and decided that once she'd sorted out this particular problem, she may – or may not – steal herself an extra glance.


	194. Out Of The Blue

**Author's Note: Written for 'Blueberry Muffin Day' (11 July). Set post-series.**

 **For agrainne24. Just because.**

* * *

Sometimes it hits her out of the blue; the fact that she's married to Jack O'Neill.

Yet every single time, the realization, the rediscovery that she is his and he is hers, fills her with a warmth and contentment and a general feeling of peace that she doesn't have when he isn't there.

She watches him over the rim of her coffee cup and smiles softly at the scene before her, and just because she can.

This. Here. _Now._

It's the simplest, strangely intimate moments they share that do it. Like having breakfast together at Jack's house in Washington on a Sunday morning, with the faint sound of traffic passing by and the equally as faint swish and rustle of the leaves on the trees as they move in the gentle autumnal breeze.

She memorizes the way his forehead creases in concentration, a slight pucker between his brows as he studies the crossword puzzle. She waits, patiently, and catches the infinitesimal change in his expression, the glint in his eye, that tells her he's solved whatever cryptic clue he's been reading. She follows the movements of his hand as he reaches for his coffee cup and his fingers curl around its body, savouring its warmth, as opposed to using the handle so he doesn't get burned. She stares, transfixed, as he takes a lazy bite from his blueberry muffin and the muscles in his jaw work, tensing and relaxing, as he chews.

She could happily sit and watch him eat all day, and she briefly wonders if it's a little weird to think that, only to quickly dismiss the idea because it's another reminder that they've made it, together, finally, _always_.

"See something you like?"

His voice is low and husky, soft and teasing, but his gaze never leaves the newspaper. He's smiling though, quite smugly, in her opinion, as if he already knows the answer and her lips twitch in response.

"Maybe."

But they both know it's a lie. She _definitely_ sees something she likes.

A low chuckle escapes him and the sound sends a responding warmth spreading through her to pool low in her belly.

Silently, Jack sets the paper and pen down and reaches across the table to slide his hand into hers. He gives her fingers a gentle squeeze as he gets to his feet and she follows, her smile widening as he pulls her into his arms, presses his lips to her temple and holds her close.

Yeah, she thinks. This, right here, is perfect and right and just quintessentially _them_.


	195. Cataclysmic Reaction

**Author's Note: Written for 'Eat Your Jell-O Day' (12 July). Episode tag to 'Beneath The Surface'.**

* * *

Jack stood on the ramp with Carter to his left and Daniel and Teal'c to his right as the staff in the control room erupted in applause.

"Welcome home, SG-1," Hammond smiled.

"Thank you, sir," Jack replied absently as he took an inventory of his surroundings. The dull gray walls, the click and hiss of the blast door as it slid open, the bald man in a short-sleeved shirt. Yes, Jack O'Neill was home.

"I gather we have a lot to discuss, but first I'd like you all to visit the infirmary. Doctor Fraiser is expecting you," he added with a sympathetic smile as he took in the tired and dirty-looking people before him.

Jack nodded and gestured for Daniel and Teal'c to go first. He'd just made a move to follow when he felt a hand on his arm.

"Sir –"

He turned and saw the color drain from Carter's face.

"Carter!" he called, catching her just in time as she collapsed into his arms. _"We need a medic!"_

* * *

The colonel poked his head around the infirmary door and seeing no-one around, made his way towards the only occupied bed. He ducked through the gap in the curtain that had been drawn and took a moment to study his now-sleeping major. He swallowed hard at the sight and moving closer, gently tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. He wanted to brush his fingers along the side of her face, to feel her skin under his, but knowing he was on dangerous ground, let his hand fall helplessly by his side. Instead, he pulled up a chair and moments later heard the distinctive sound of Janet's heels against the infirmary floor.

"Doc," he greeted flatly, his attention focused on Carter.

"Colonel, I thought I ordered you to get some rest?"

"You did."

"You have only been gone for forty-five minutes," she sighed. "I said I didn't want to see you back here for at least two hours."

"How is she?"

"There's been no change since you left, sir."

He nodded in understanding. Carter had regained consciousness shortly after they'd brought her into the infirmary, but when he'd leaned in closer and asked if she was okay, she had whispered in his ear the one word he now hated with a vengeance.

 _Jonah._

Sam, perhaps fortunately, had then passed out and Jack had chosen to stay by her side – until he had been ordered to leave.

He was only vaguely aware that Janet had started speaking again, but when she hesitated, the silence caught his attention.

"What did you say, doc?"

"Does 'Jonah' mean something, sir?"

 _There was the damn word again._

Jack tensed slightly before his gaze drifted back to his teammate. "No," he whispered. "It doesn't."

He chose to ignore the questioning look he knew was now being directed his way and added, "She's going to be okay. Right, Janet?"

Taken aback by the use of her first name, she nodded. "Yes, sir. I believe so."

"Good. How long 'til she gets out of here? Hammond will want to know," he continued, silently hoping she would buy his reason for asking.

"I honestly don't know. Normally, I would say a week before clearing someone for active duty; but we'll not know for sure until she regains consciousness. You were missing for four weeks, colonel, and Sam's lost a lot of weight in that time, as well as showing signs of mild dehydration. I also need to run another test."

Jack's eyes flew to hers. "What kind of test?"

Janet's hands disappear into her coat pockets as she took a deep breath. "Sam's preliminary blood tests show an elevated white blood cell count."

He stared at her blankly, despite his heart now hammering in his chest. He was no expert, but he knew of at least one thing as to what that could mean and he swallowed hard as he remembered their time on P3R-118, but he was not about to share those thoughts with Janet, so instead he waved a hand around in the air and hoped she mistook his reaction as confusion, rather an inappropriate amount of concern.

"And? So? Therefore?"

"It could simply be an infection her body is trying to fight," Janet said, holding up a hand, "but it could be something else. It's just routine, sir."

It took a few moments, but eventually Jack looked away. His reaction intrigued the doctor, but she didn't say anything. Instead, she observed his body language, and wondered – not for the first time – what exactly had happened to them out there.

When he settled further back into the plastic chair, she sighed. She knew it was his way of saying he would not be leaving that spot until Sam was awake.

"Call me if there's any change, sir," she said quietly, drawing the curtain fully closed around the bed and leaving them alone.

* * *

It took thirty minutes before a soft whimper caught Jack's attention. Sam was awake, her blue eyes bright, but glassy and unfocused as she stared at him.

His chest tightened as he watched contentment, then confusion flash through her eyes before realization settled and she turned her face away. A part of him understood why, but it still hurt. He couldn't help himself though and used the opportunity to move closer and leaned forward, his elbows resting on his thighs.

"Hey," he murmured.

"Hi, sir."

"How are you feeling?"

He winced at the question, and the strained, "Fine, sir" he received in response, only confirmed what he already knew. She was anything _but_ fine.

He'd had a while to think their time P3R-118 but had only succeeded in driving himself crazy. In the end, he decided he had no other option but to lock his memories away in _that_ room – a room that was quickly becoming crowded. He knew Carter would do the same. They didn't have any other choice right now.

As he watched the various emotions battle in her eyes, he desperately wanted to reach out and touch her; to tell her he understood and that it was okay. That _they_ would be okay, but the words wouldn't come, because deep down, he knew that wasn't what he really wanted to tell her.

Not now. Not anymore. Not when the two of them had crossed every single line on that damn planet.

Before, when they were forced to admit their feelings for each other, it had been relatively easy to lock everything away and continue as if it had never happened. But that was a time when Jack had just his imagination to rely on when it came to thinking about Samantha Carter in that way.

Now it was different. He had experienced the reality. Now, he knew everything about her in the most intimate of ways; like how she sighed his name when he kissed her neck, or how her fingers set his skin on fire as they danced along his spine, how she tasted on his tongue –

He quickly shook his head to rid himself of the memories.

"I'm sorry, Carter. I –"

"Don't apologize, sir. We both..." She trailed off as her skin turned a light shade of pink and Jack forced himself to look away.

"I – ah – I need to get Janet."

He caught her disappointed expression, but then it was gone. "Yes, sir."

His jaw tightened at the salutation. He really hated that word as well now, and chose not to look back as he disappeared behind the curtain.

* * *

Sam inhaled sharply as she turned onto her side and jarred the IV in her hand. The pain made her stop and she closed her eyes as the room started to spin and the panic started to return.

She and the rest of SG-1 had been back on Earth for a day now, but she was finding it difficult to readjust and settle. Granted, it was more difficult when she was lying in an infirmary bed, drifting in and out of consciousness, but everything just seemed _harder_ this time. Even when Janet had carried out her tests, Sam found it laborious answering her friend's questions. She was confused, felt sick and like a heavy weight was persistently pressing down on her chest. It made her feel like she was slowly suffocating.

The sound of someone clearing their throat startled her and she felt her skin burn when she noticed her commanding officer standing at the foot of the bed, his hands hidden behind his back.

"The doc says you're feeling better."

"A little."

"She also said you need to eat," he added pointedly, his gaze falling to the untouched tray of food at the side of the bed.

"I'm not hungry, sir."

"Yeah," he mumbled. "Janet said you'd no appetite."

He looked at the food again and pulled a face. "Can't say I blame you," he added, silently hoping it really was soup in one of the bowls. "You really should eat something, Carter."

"Is that an order, sir?" she whispered.

"Sam _,_ I –"

He stopped abruptly as he tried to decide on what he wanted to say. In the end, he remained quiet but stepped closer and removed one arm from behind his back. Lifting the tray, he placed it at the bottom of the bed, while a spoon and a glass of blue Jell-O was held firmly in his other hand.

"Try this," he said, holding the dessert towards her.

He waited patiently as Sam studied him and after what felt like an eternity, she took it, but she didn't immediately start to eat, rather choosing to place the glass on her lap. Feeling slightly awkward as she continued to look at him, Jack thrust his hands into his pockets and rocked back on his heels.

"I, ah, thought that after four weeks of rationed crap, you'd like something that tasted more like... food," he explained, then pulled a face when he wondered if Jell-O was actually considered food.

"Thank you, sir."

She smiled but he heard the waver in her voice and all he could do was offer his own strained smile in response. Drawing a hand from his pocket, he ran it across the back of his neck.

"Think of it as a get well soon offering – and an apology," he murmured, holding her gaze.

"Sir?" She frowned.

"Back on '118, when we – uh," he winced, then let his attention fall to the glass of Jell-O. "I remember after we – well, afterwards – you were talking about dessert," he said, his lips twisting into a slight grin. "But it was the only thing I couldn't give you that night. Now –"

His smile suddenly changed to one full of regret. "Now, it's the only thing I can."

Brown eyes clashed with blue as Jack finally looked back at her and silently told her everything he couldn't say and he knew the moment she understood.

"Sir... _Jack._ I –"

Her words were cut off as the sound of Janet's heels could be heard from across the infirmary.

"I'm sorry, Sam," he whispered, before disappearing behind the curtain, leaving her staring after him with tear-filled eyes.


	196. Would You Like Fries With That?

**Would You Like Fries With That?**

 **Author's Note: Written for 'French Fries Day' (13 July). Set early season 4, but before** _ **Upgrades**_ **.**

* * *

Daniel thanked the waitress as she arrived with their meals, helping her with a couple of the plates. When she turned and left, he went to reach for the bottle of ketchup only to find Jack had already claimed it and was currently squeezing a generous amount of the red sauce onto his fries in a zig-zag pattern.

The move was unusual for Jack, but when he then set down the ketchup and lifted a second bottle and squirted a blob of mustard against one side of the bowl, Daniel's frown deepened. Jack didn't tend to have both condiments with his fries – Sam did, but not Jack.

He was just about to ask Jack what he was doing when Sam suddenly returned from the restroom, slid onto the seat to his left and smiled at the food.

"This looks great," she said as she reached forward.

Daniel assumed she wanted her cutlery, so he grabbed them for her but then he saw the bowl of fries being pushed towards her and he paused. Without hesitation, Sam's eyes lit up and she grabbed a couple of the fries between her fingers before she popped them in her mouth.

"Thank you, sir."

Her smile had widened, but her voice barely carried across the table and if Daniel looked closer, he'd swear Sam looked almost bashful. He quickly shifted his attention to Jack who sported an equally curious, yet gentle, smile.

"You betcha, Carter."

They held each other's gaze for a second longer then, as quickly as the moment appeared, it had vanished and the two of them tucked into their respective meals.

Confused, Daniel glanced at Teal'c who was sitting opposite him, but instead of uncertainty, he noticed his friend looked intrigued at the interaction, a slight sparkle in his eyes.

Daniel cast his other teammates a final look before meeting Teal'c's stare again. The corner of his lips turned upward and as realization dawned, the two shared a knowing look.

He quietly picked up his own cutlery and decided not to say anything for now. For one, it wasn't his place to do so, and two, he also wasn't quite sure what it was he'd just witnessed between Sam and Jack.

He wasn't completely convinced his friends were fully aware of the moment that had just passed between them either.

* * *

 **I just wanted to take this opportunity to thank you all again for the support you continue to have for this series and the comments I've received to date. There are some I'm unable to reply to, but please know that every single piece of feedback you leave, means a lot, and I'm delighted (and still pleasantly surprised) at the following this has. Thank you!**


	197. Pandemonium

**Author's Note: Written for 'Pandemonium Day' (14 July), a day "dedicated to the unexpected". Set after the events of S2's The Serpent's Lair. AU.**

* * *

"Same again," Jack said to the barman as he lifted his empty beer bottle.

He cast a quick glance over his shoulder and grinned at the sight – and sound – of Kawalsky, Ferretti and other members of the SGC as they launched into another drunken rendition of some song Jack thought he'd probably recognize if he decided to concentrate hard enough.

Even though the Program was still in its early stages, O'Malley's was quickly becoming the regular meeting place for the base personnel, but as General O'Neill looked around, he'd swear the entire mountain had descended on the bar tonight. Who could blame them though? Apophis had been killed, his ships were no longer on a collision course for Earth, and the planet was safe once more from the Goa'uld. So, it really wasn't a surprise to see everyone having a night off and enjoying themselves.

Raucous laughter from the far side of the bar interrupted his thoughts and he looked across to find Daniel and half of SG-3 taking part in some kind of dance-off. At least, that's what he hoped it was.

"You gotta love the Spacemonkey," he chuckled.

Throwing a few bills on the counter, he picked up his beer and returned his attention to the scene before him. Teal'c had now moved towards the group, silently standing guard over the inebriated archaeologist, ready to step in the moment he'd pass out. Jack shook his head in amusement and let his attention wander to the opposite end of the bar where his second-in-command, George Hammond, was deep in conversation with Janet Fraiser.

Even though he was off-duty, Jack scanned the bar once again and knew everyone was accounted for. Happy that they all appeared to be happy, he leaned his elbows on the bar and decided to finish his beer and then call it a night.

Just then, however, the sound of laughter reached his ears again. Only this time it wasn't from anyone he recognized. And then he saw her. Through the lights and the noise and the haze of smoke that seemed to be a permanent fixture of O'Malley's, stood his tranquility.

She was tall and slim and very attractive, her blonde hair falling loosely around her shoulders. The black leather jacket slung over her shoulders suited her and he could just make out the blue t-shirt underneath that matched the color of her eyes. He tried very hard not to let his jaw hit the floor at the sight, because she was, without a doubt, the most beautiful woman Jack had ever laid eyes on.

Shaking his head, he realized it was now a hell of a lot warmer inside the bar than before and he decided he needed some fresh air.

Yet he couldn't seem to look away.

He had absolutely no idea who she was, but he wanted to know. There was something about her, in those few seconds that passed, that had intrigued him; like a magnetic force pulling him in that he was powerless to stop. Although, if he were honest, he wasn't sure he'd wanted to stop it even if he could.

He took a long pull on his beer and briefly toyed with the idea of making his way over to say hello when a low whistle came from his right.

"She's pretty."

"Shut up, Kawalsky."

Suddenly, as if she heard them, the mystery blonde looked up.

Her eyes met his and he found it a little harder to breathe.

"You should go and say hi, Jack."

Then, she smiled at him. A small, shy smile but even from this distance he caught the pink tinge on her cheeks and the way she pulled her bottom lip between her teeth as she broke the stare.

"Yeah," he said distractedly, as he gestured for the barman to bring him another beer. "I think I will."

* * *

 **Firstly, I feel like a broken record at this point, but I'm so sorry (again) for falling behind with these.**

 **Secondly, as some of you will know Ship Day takes place later this month! It was started to commemorate the first airing of _Divide & Conquer_, the episode in which Sam and Jack were forced to admit they had feelings for each other. So, naturally, this makes the episode a favorite of many S/J shippers. ;)  
**

 **We are planning a few things for the day and would love other shippers to get involved, whether it is here, Twitter, Tumblr or GateWorld. More details will follow shortly!**


	198. Disfavor

**Author's Note: Written for 'Get Out Of The Dog House Day' (15 July). Episode tag for Ascension.**

* * *

"Well, your blood tests still show slight anemia, but there doesn't seem to be anything to worry about," Janet said as she set her friend's chart onto the bed.

"Great, thanks." Sam gave her a half-smile as she got to her feet and grabbed her jacket.

"Ah, ah! Not so fast," Janet cut in, raising a hand in the air to stop Sam's objections.

With a heavy sigh, Sam sat back down.

"I've already spoken to General Hammond and he's agreed to put you on downtime for the next week."

"What?" Sam asked, her voice rising before she remembered where she was. "I mean – that's really not necessary, Janet. I feel fine."

They stared at each other for a few seconds, neither willing to back down, when Janet finally looked away.

"I don't think you realize how serious this is."

"Janet –"

"I don't want to hear 'I'm fine' from you, Sam," she continued firmly. "You're anemic; you are on the verge of exhaustion; you've lost weight... You've been working so hard for so long without a break. How much longer do you think you'll be able to go before you go too far?"

When Sam frowned at her question, Janet lowered her voice.

"I'm asking you as a friend, Sam. Take the week off, please."

She opened her mouth to protest when the voice of her commanding officer floated over her left shoulder and she jumped.

"Listen to the Doc."

"I feel fine, _sir._ "

"Whatever," he shrugged, his attention switching to Janet. "Is she done here?"

"Yes, sir."

"Excellent," he nodded. "Alright, Carter. Go get changed. I'm taking you home. _Ah,_ " he quipped, holding an index finger in the air to indicate he wasn't finished. "No arguments. Unless you want to go against a direct – let alone a doctor's order – and live to tell about it," he smirked when Janet rolled her eyes.

He let Sam study him, her eyes full of suspicion, before she eventually relented.

"Yes, sir."

"Great," he smiled. "Meet you at the elevator in thirty."

He watched her leave and as soon as she was out of sight, turned to face Janet, his light mood vanishing.

"You sure she's alright to leave the base?"

"Yes, sir. As long as she actually rests, she'll be fine."

Jack nodded an affirmative before dragging a hand through his hair and sighing heavily.

"Something tells me getting Carter to rest will be the least of my worries this week."

He saw the confusion on Janet's face but before she had the chance to ask him what he meant by his comment, he spoke.

"Did she, uh, say anything?" he asked as he shoved his hands into his pockets.

"About what, sir?"

"Never mind."

"Is there something wrong, colonel?"

"Nah," he said with a small smile. "Thanks, Doc."

* * *

Thirty minutes later and Sam turned at the unmistakable sound of her commanding officer whistling. He rounded the corner, and she immediately noticed that he'd also changed into his civvies. As he came to a stop beside her at the elevator, he hooked his fingers into the collar of his leather jacket and slung it over his shoulder.

"Carter," he nodded.

"Sir."

"Ready to go?"

They stepped inside the elevator and as they slowly made their way towards the surface, Jack used the time to observe his major. Leaning against the wall, he noticed that Sam was almost standing to attention, her arms crossed tightly in front of her chest and her gaze unwavering as she stared at the elevator doors. Tension radiated from her and a sigh escaped him before he had time to stop it. Without warning, Sam spun on her heel, her eyes hardening.

"Is something wrong, sir?"

Deciding to ignore her icy tone for the time being, Jack shrugged. "I was just thinking you really are too tense, Carter."

He knew it was the wrong thing to say as soon as the words left his mouth, and he didn't even mean it the way it sounded but it was too late. He couldn't take them back, so he tried a little damage control.

"I'm just saying, Carter," he said, lifting a hand in the air. "A few days off will do you good. Trust me."

A pair of wide, blue eyes met his gaze and Jack was surprised to see the disbelief in Sam's expression before she schooled her features.

"Trust you, sir," she repeated slowly. "The way you trusted me?"

Silence, thick and heavy, fell and Jack winced. Carter had every right to be angry and disappointed with them, but he was only starting to see just how much they'd let her down by not having her back.

"Yeah, Carter," he murmured, his eyes never leaving hers. _"Trust me."_

Taking a deep breath, he pushed himself away from the wall and took a step closer only to freeze when Sam shook her head. She briefly closed her eyes before she turned around and Jack felt the sting of her actions.

He wanted to say he was sorry, wanted to ask her what he needed to do to make it up to her, but the words wouldn't come. He just found himself staring unseeing and hoped that he'd be able to do enough to gain her forgiveness and earn her trust once again.

* * *

 **I also have an update regarding the Sam & Jack Ship Day 2019, but as this site doesn't allow hyperlinks anywhere but your profile, you can find the info there. Hopefully. If not, please send me a private message if you'd like to take part in Ship Day, or want to know more about it. Thank you!**


	199. Coiled

**Author's Note: Written for 'World Snake Day' (16 July). Drabble for** _ **In The Line Of Duty.**_

* * *

Over the past year, Jack O'Neill had spent more time than he cared to admit looking at Carter's eyes.

He noticed them on the days they looked a pale shade of gray underneath the fluorescent lights of the SGC's corridors.

He noticed them on the days they were off-world and they were such a vivid, bright blue in the unfamiliar sunshine that he felt his breath catch.

Regardless of their color, however, every single time, he noted how beautiful they were; how they sparkled with warmth and kindness, naivety and mischief.

But now, they were blank, unseeing. Cold.

They were the only words he felt accurately described the captain's eyes and it sent a shiver down his spine.

He didn't know what Jolinar had done to his friend, but it was just another reason to hate snakeheads, whether they were Tok'ra or Goa'uld. In Jack's mind, they were both the same right about now and he frowned as he looked over at Sam. She lay on her side, coiled in a tight, firm ball, as if awaiting the slightest movement or softest word that would make her snap.

She still refused to speak to them, but Jack silently promised himself that he would find out everything he could about Jolinar, no matter what it took, if it would bring Sam back to the team – to _him_. For now, though, all he could do was continue to sit by her side and wait.

He thought he'd wait forever if he had to.

* * *

 **Not quite sure where this idea came from…**


	200. Tattoo

**Author's Note: Written for 'Tattoo Day' (17 July).**

* * *

"I'll show you mine if you show me yours."

Jack choked on his beer and resolutely refused to address the flash of desire that spread through his body at Sam's words.

Against his better judgment he did, however, risk a glance in her direction and caught her smirking at Daniel. Letting his gaze slide towards the archaeologist, he took in the sight of his teammate slouched back against the cushions on the couch, his glasses slightly askew and a half-empty bottle of beer balancing precariously on his legs.

"I don't – is that – is that a good idea? I mean," Daniel half-slurred as he lifted his beer and waved it around a vague circle, the liquid sloshing around. "How do I know you're telling the truth?"

"How do I know you are?"

"I –" He stopped abruptly at the question, his brows furrowed behind his glasses.

Jack took a long pull from his own beer and shook his head in amusement. Strictly speaking, he should probably have called an end to their conversation already but a part of him was now really curious as to whether Samantha Carter did have a tattoo.

He knew Daniel had a small ankh on his right foot – something he'd had done on Abydos – but as for Sam?

Jack had observed his second-in-command in various stages of undress over the years and he'd be lying if he said he hadn't looked the odd time, but he was pretty sure that he'd never, ever found any hint of a tattoo.

"I need to pee."

"TMI, Daniel," Jack groaned as he and Sam watched their friend unsteadily make his way out of the living room.

Suddenly finding himself alone with Carter, Jack felt the air change. It became hot and heavy and when he met her eye and saw the blush that crept along her neck and face, he swallowed hard.

"You don't – you don't really have a tattoo… do you, Carter?"

He tried to sound nonchalant, he really did, but even he heard the hope in his voice that maybe – just maybe – she did, and that she'd consequently let him into the secret as to where it was inked on her body.

A smile slowly shaped her lips and she shrugged. "Maybe."

He couldn't help himself. "I think you're bluffing," he grinned.

At that, Sam laughed softly but then her smile turning teasing, almost knowing, and she leaned in closer.

"There's only one way to find out," she whispered, _"sir."_

* * *

 **200 chapters... better late than never, I guess!**


	201. Caviar And Champagne

**Author's Note: Written for 'Caviar Day' (18 July). Set post-series.**

* * *

There's caviar and champagne, three-star Generals and the President, but it all fades away when he catches sight of _her_.

He had no idea she was going to be here tonight – in Washington – never mind this albeit fancy-but-complete-waste-of-time networking event Hayes has forced him to attend.

But she _is_ here, standing at the other side of the room speaking to General Vidrine and Jack briefly thinks it's maybe a good thing he didn't know his former second-in-command would be attending.

They've spoken over the phone and met up for dinner in DC and Colorado Springs over the past couple of years ever since they'd both left the SGC and they have remained on friendly terms, but that seems to be the extent of the relationship. _Friends._

Jack isn't quite sure where they stand now in terms of something _more._ All he does know, however, is that his feelings haven't changed. He promised her always.

He lets his gaze roam and even though she has no idea he's staring, she steals his breath away. She is beautiful.

Her hair is longer than he's ever known it to be, and she looks a little older – not in a negative way – but the responsibility of a command on her shoulders has aged her, matured her in a different way than her command of SG-1 did, but she holds it well. The floor-length, midnight blue gown dress she's wearing hugs her body, a body that is still in incredible shape for someone who isn't out in the field anywhere near as much as she used to be. His gaze returns to the color of the dress and how it suits her complexion perfectly and makes her eyes even more vibrant in the low lighting of the dimmed ballroom.

He decides, after all this time, that he is still, most definitely, in love with her.

With a heavy sigh, he drains the remainder of his drink and wonders if they've missed their chance but then suddenly she looks up, meets his gaze and smiles.

It makes him realize just how much he's missed her.

He throws her a small smile back before he lifts two fresh glasses of champagne and makes his way towards her.

Maybe, just maybe, tonight will be the night he finally plucks up the courage and asks her to give them a chance.


	202. An Elevating Experience

**Author's Note: Written for 'Talk In An Elevator Day' (19 July). Missing scene for _Chimera._**

* * *

Jack watched as surprise, then disappointment, crossed Pete's face when he realized that his welcoming party upon leaving the infirmary was a welcoming party of one.

He pushed away from the wall he was leaning against and nodded towards the young lieutenant who had been assigned to watch over the cop.

"It's alright," Jack said, coming to a stop in front of them. "I'll escort our visitor to the Briefing Room."

The officer's gaze flicked between the two men.

"I'll make sure Hammond knows it was my doing," he added.

"Yes, sir."

The lieutenant quickly snapped off a salute and left the two men alone. A beat passed and then Jack headed towards the elevators.

"This way," he ordered.

He didn't look back to see if Pete followed, but he could feel the guy's gaze burning into his back, studying him, trying to suss him out like he would with one of his suspects – and Jack refused to give him that pleasure. He wasn't in the mood for small talk either, so he didn't say a word as he waited for the elevator to arrive. When the doors finally opened, Jack stepped in first with Pete close behind.

"I, ah, thought Sam might have been the one to greet me," Pete finally said as the elevator started its descent towards Level 27.

Jack glanced at him out of the corner of his eye and caught him grinning. "What are you smiling at?"

"Nothing," he said, his amusement quickly vanishing, "I just –" he stopped abruptly when Jack's expression hardened. "Where's –"

"She's already in the Briefing Room," Jack interrupted, his gaze now focused on the elevator doors. "Listen, Shannon –"

"Uh, it's Shanahan."

"Whatever," he muttered. "I don't have much time here, so I'm just going to get straight to the point."

"Wh–"

Jack turned to face Pete and pierced him with a look.

"You jeopardized our mission and put my team in danger."

"Oh," he said, a slight nervous chuckle escaping. "I didn't –"

"I don't care," Jack continued, talking over him. "I also know about your little background check on Carter."

He was met with silence and he watched as the color drained from Pete's face. It made him feel a little better to see the cop suddenly squirm, but he kept his expression neutral.

"I can explain."

"I'd shoot you myself for your stupidity, but as Carter seems to like you," he shrugged, "I won't."

"Uh, thanks."

"But let's get one thing straight, detective," Jack warned as he took a step closer, his voice low and dangerous. "If you _ever_ hurt Sam, or interfere with our job again, I won't hesitate to shoot you. Is that understood?"

Before he could get his answer, however, the elevator came to a stop and Jack shifted his stance to face forward again. The doors eased open and he stepped out into the corridor, not waiting to see if Pete followed.


	203. Chasing Stars

**Author's Note: Written for 'Space Exploration Day' (20 July), so I'm going back to where it all began for our favorite ship.**

* * *

Jack sighed heavily as he lay down on the small cot that passed for a bed in his guest quarters. He'd made the decision to stay on base rather than go home as he wanted to profile his new team one more time ahead of their mission to Abydos.

It wasn't that Jack didn't trust them, he just wanted to make sure they were up to the job because no matter how much experience they may have, they still had no idea what they were walking into. He had faced down Ra a year ago; he'd witnessed first hand the weapons, the army, the sheer amount of support (albeit misguided) the alien had amassed, but Jack's gut was telling him that whatever was happening in the galaxy right now, was an even greater threat.

It was up to Jack to make sure that Earth didn't fall victim and a part of him felt responsible for bringing this new terror to his planet, because he was the one who made the decision to kill Ra, going against his original mission objective.

But then again, things had changed to make him change his mind. A year ago, he'd been prepared to end it all. That was the reason he had accepted the Abydos mission in the first place. Not only had his son accidently shot himself with his gun, but his wife was barely speaking to him and Jack knew it wouldn't be long until she either left him or filed for divorce. He couldn't blame her, but at the time he thought it would be easier for everyone if he just... left.

Now, though, it was different. Okay, so he was divorced and not a day went by when he didn't think of Charlie, but he realized that he actually did have something to live for. He credited Daniel, Skaara and the people of Abydos for saving his life. They were also the reason he had agreed to return to active duty and go on another jaunt across the galaxy because even though he'd been the one to kill Ra and destroy his ship, it didn't mean others had to pay the price.

It didn't stop Jack from worrying though. Some nights, if he closed his eyes and concentrated hard enough, he'd swear he could still feel the effects of the torture he'd experienced at the hands of Ra. Repressing a shudder, Jack sighed and ran a hand over his face. Aside from himself, Kawalsky and Ferretti, nobody else had a clue as to the danger they were about to face and that concerned him.

Unwittingly, his concerns fell on one member in particular.

Captain Samantha Carter.

Jack had taken another look at her records after their oh-so-memorable briefing earlier, and was surprised to discover the young captain had indeed notched up an impressive amount of hours in enemy airspace. She was also good with a weapon, at least Jack assumed she was; she wouldn't be allowed anywhere near the field otherwise. However, her main reason for being assigned to his team was because she was the 'foremost expert on the Stargate', and unless she was going to overpower the enemy by confusing them with her technobabble, Jack saw no reason for her to be there. He had absolutely no time, nor care, to babysit a scientist.

There was something about her that piqued his curiosity. Yes, she was a model officer, not to mention incredibly smart, and gorgeous too. But she also had a little bit of attitude, and whilst any commanding officer would have been well within their rights to tear her down for her insubordination earlier, Jack was secretly impressed. Rolling his eyes, Jack tried to get into a more comfortable position on the cot and he found himself grinning slightly when he realized that babysitting Carter might not be a bad thing.

His grin widened as he recalled their conversation over the briefing room table. Carter was feisty, he'd give her that – and he liked it.

He also, probably unwisely, wanted to accept her challenge to arm wrestle but, probably wisely, decided not to dwell on the reasons as to why that might be.

With a shake of his head, he settled back against the pillow and closed his eyes.

He had no idea what tomorrow would bring, or the days ahead, but for now his mind was filled with images of wrestling with Captain Carter, and for the first time in more than a year, Jack's heart felt a little lighter. **  
**


	204. Sweet Treat

**Author's Note: Written for either 'Junk Food Day' or 'Ice Cream Day' (21 July).** **AU.**

* * *

Jack pushed Charlie on the swing once more and sighed. He was going to kill Daniel when he saw him in work tomorrow.

 _What kind of adult gives a kid ice cream for dinner?_

"The kind who won't be babysitting my son again in a hurry," Jack groused quietly as Charlie squealed in delight.

"Higher, dad! _Higher!_ "

He glanced at his watch and grimaced. It was now after twenty-hundred hours and well after Charlie's bedtime. Holding tightly onto the chains, Jack brought the swing to a smooth stop.

"I don't think so kid," he said. "We can come back tomorrow, but for now you need to go to bed."

"I'm not tired."

"Yeah," Jack nodded as he helped him off the swing and took his hand, "you are. You just don't know it yet."

"Promise we can come back tomorrow?"

"I promise," he confirmed, "once you finish your homework."

"I hate homework."

"Everyone hates homework."

 _"It's boring!"_

"Charlie," Jack sighed, trying really hard to remember that it wasn't his son's fault if he still had far too much energy to burn and was in a very argumentative mood. _"I know._ Look," he added a moment later, pausing to crouch down beside him, "how about we make a deal?"

Charlie's eyes lit up and Jack couldn't help but smile.

"If you agree to do your homework, I'll help you with it – that means we'll finish it sooner and –"

"The sooner we can go to the park?"

"That's my boy!"

He held his breath and waited as Charlie thought over his offer.

"Okay," he finally nodded, before grinning widely as they started to near the parking lot. "Race you to your truck, daddy!"

As Charlie escaped his grip, Jack had only a second to notice the jogger a few feet away.

 _"Charlie, wait!"_

He winced as he tried to grab his son and missed, while the jogger also saw Charlie at the last second and tried to avoid knocking him down, resulting in her running straight into Jack instead.

 _"Oh!"_

 _"Ow!"_

Jack just managed to stay on his feet, but the woman wasn't as fortunate.

"Crap," he muttered, kneeling down beside her. "I'm sorry, I –"

"It's fine," she interrupted as she sat up, although Jack could tell she was in pain, no matter how much she tried to hide it. "I – ah – wasn't exactly paying attention," she finished quietly, a flush spreading across her face that had nothing to do with running.

"Here," Jack said, offering her a hand. "Charlie, get back here. _Please._ "

The woman's gaze slowly shifted from Jack's face to his sons and her expression softened.

Jack gently nudged him forward. "What do you say?"

"I'm sorry ma'am," the little boy mumbled. "I didn't see you."

She smiled, but Jack couldn't help but notice it looked more like a grimace. "It's okay," she insisted.

As she continued to speak to Charlie, Jack found his gaze roaming over the stranger; her blonde hair and blue eyes, the well-worn gray USAF t-shirt and shorts, legs for days –

He felt a tug on his hand and he blinked to find Charlie staring at him, as well as the jogger. He tried to ignore the smile tugging at the corner of her lips, however at having been caught staring.

"Uh… huh?"

"The lady said thank you, daddy."

He frowned. "Oh. Uh…"

"For helping me back to my feet."

She chuckled softly at his confusion and something inside of Jack that had long since lay dormant cracked open and came alive at the sound.

"Well," he shrugged, "it was kind of our fault you ended up on your a– ah – well, you know."

She dipped her head at his almost slip-up, letting her gaze fall to her feet. It was only then, Jack noticed she was favoring her left elbow.

"Are you hurt?"

"Hmm?" When she realized she was rubbing at the joint, she let her hand fall to her side and her expression cleared. "It'll be fine."

"Still," Jack said, taking a half-step forward, "maybe you should get it checked out."

She shook her head. "It's okay, but I really should be going."

Moving around them both, she gave them one final smile and Jack could do nothing but watch her leave. Then, he started to berate himself for letting her go. He tried to convince himself it was because she was nursing an injury, and not just because he thought she was really, _really_ pretty.

With a heavy sigh, he took Charlie's hand in his and cast one final glance in the direction the woman had disappeared. He suddenly realized he didn't even know her name.


	205. Swing Softly With Me

**Author's Note: Written for 'Hammock Day' (22 July). Missing scene for _Threads._**

* * *

He arrived home from the SGC to find Carter sitting on the hammock at the bottom of his back yard, and whilst he was surprised to see her, it soon gave way to concern when she laid eyes on him.

She'd clearly been waiting there for a while; her eyes were red and swollen, her face stained with tears. He'd moved towards her but somewhere along the way she mentioned on a breath that she'd broken off her engagement to Pete. So, he'd found himself admitting that Kerry was gone too, and then he'd ended up with an armful of Carter crying and mumbling ' _I'm sorry, I'm so sorry_ ' over and over again against his neck and chest, while he could do nothing but hold her, his hands running along her spine while he whispered ' _It's okay_ ' in her ear and patiently waited until she was ready to pull away or talk to him.

But it's now almost midnight and they've still to talk. But it's okay. He doesn't need to know what happened with the cop yet, just as Sam doesn't need to know about Agent Johnson, because even though he and Carter have both been stupid to deny feeling feelings over the years, he has a sneaking suspicion that they are now both on the same, clear page.

He glances down and his heart skips a beat at the sight before him. Lying back, he's got one foot on the ground so he can gently rock the hammock and the motion helps keep Sam sleeping soundly against his chest.

Then, he finds himself smiling at the revelation that this – this is it. After eight years of lust and longing and love, only to then almost lose it all, they're finally here. They made it.

And it's every bit as amazing as he imagined. **  
**


	206. Famous Last Words

**Author's Note:** **Written for 'International Yada, Yada, Yada Day' (23 July). Aside from the phrase being used, I don't know how this relates to the holiday…**

* * *

"Yada, yada, ya– _ah!_ "

Jack bit back a curse as another sharp pain jolted through his right knee as he continued to half-jog, half-limp back towards the gate; but whether that was because he had crocked his knee again, or it was because of their current situation, he hadn't yet decided.

"Things were going just fine until you –"

 _"Daniel!"_

"What?"

"They were not – _fine_ ," he grimaced, trying to block out the pain. Janet was going to kill him for this latest injury, he just knew it.

"We've encountered civilizations like this before, Jack."

"– and it always ends up the same."

"Well, maybe if you were more open to other cultures –"

" _Hey!_ I'm all for culture," he shot back, "but not when they want Carter as their wife – and I _told_ you not to say those words and yet – you did. _Sh–_ "

Jack sucked in a breath as he lost his footing, the pain searing through his knee once more. Despite blaming Daniel for their current predicament, he was also silently thankful the archaeologist was there as he felt an arm slip around his waist in an attempt to keep him as upright as possible as they neared the gate.

"We're almost there," Daniel panted. "Hang on."

He nodded, unable to speak.

"But you can't blame this one on me, Jack. All I said was –"

" _'It'll be fine'_ ," the colonel mocked. " _'What could possibly go wrong?'_ , you said. Well, are you familiar with the phrase, 'famous last words', Daniel?"

The younger man rolled his eyes just as a spear flew past both their heads.

"Umm, could we argue about this later?" he asked in concern.

"Yeah. Let's pick it up," Jack agreed, holding his breath as they jogged a little harder, making it to the crest of the hill.

As soon as they started their descent on the other side, they caught sight of Sam and Teal'c across the clearing. The gate was open, so Jack knew they were still briefing General Hammond on the success of the mission so far – which was ironic, considering it had just gone to hell in a handbasket. Jack risked a glance over his shoulder to gauge the threat, but the unmistakable sound of the gate shutting down caught his attention and he turned back around.

"Crap," he murmured.

 _So much for a quick exit._

Seeing Sam and Teal'c start to move away from the gate, Jack decided he'd nothing to lose, so he hollered across the clearing, feeling ever-so-slightly smug when Daniel jumped about two feet in the air.

 _"Dial it up!"_

Sam looked up at the barked order and frowned as they both moved unsteadily towards her. She started to go to them, but a strange chorus of cries and shouts could be heard in the distance. She looked past her teammates as dozens of the locals appeared at the top of the hill, waving various primitive weapons in the air and shouting – what she gathered to be insults – in their direction. Her eyes widened.

 _"Dial the damn gate, Carter!"_ Jack shouted as he stumbled again.

"Yes, Sir!" She yelled as Teal'c ran to the aid of their teammates.

She had just punched in the final chevron and entered the team's IDC as they reached her.

"Sir?"

The sweat was dripping down his face, his breathing was erratic. He also looked like he was about to pass out. He half-heartedly ducked as another spear came hurtling their way and through the open gate.

"Turns out the natives aren't quite so friendly," he gasped. "Let's get out of here."

She nodded. "Yes, sir."

The four members of SG-1 landed on the ramp with a thud.

 _"Close the iris!"_

"Do it!" Hammond ordered.

As the iris closed and the gate shut down, silence descended in the room. Slowly, Sam, Daniel and Teal'c got to their feet before the Jaffa reached down to help Jack. However, he just waved off the help and chose to remain lying on the ramp, his pain evident. Darkness started to creep into the edges of his vision as he heard the general call for a medical team and he let out a sigh of relief. He closed his eyes in an attempt to block out the spinning of the room.

"Colonel, only a minute ago Major Carter was assuring me that negotiations were going smoothly with the people of PZX-678. Dare I ask what happened?"

Keeping his eyes closed, Jack licked his lips.

"Blame Daniel," he mumbled, promptly before he passed out.


	207. Family Ties

**Author's Note: Set post-series.**

* * *

Sam hears the door open and looks up and smiles.

"Is it okay if we come in? Jack said –"

"Yeah, it's fine," she says quietly, glancing down again.

He studies her as he moves closer, double-checking that she's okay and he's satisfied with what he sees. She looks tired, but she still looks beautiful and happy. Purely and truly. It's slightly strange for him to see, however, because she looks happier than ever and that's saying something because he's pretty sure she'd already reached that level of happiness.

He lets his gaze shift to the small bundle in Sam's arms.

"She's beautiful, Sam," he whispers and she matches his smile. "She looks like you."

"Don't let Jack hear you say that," she chuckles.

"Too late."

They both look up to see him standing just inside the doorway, a soft smile on his face. He slowly makes his way to the other side of the bed and gently runs the back of his index finger along his newborn daughter's arm, before he leans in and places a kiss to Sam's forehead.

"Lisa, David," he says, turning his attention to Mark and his kids. "Say hello to your little cousin, Grace."

* * *

 **Written for 'Cousins Day' (24 July).**


	208. Merry-Go-Round

**Author's Note: Written for 'Carousel Day' (25 July). Episode tag for** _ **Threads**_ **.**

* * *

The county fair arrives the same week they go to Jack's cabin but they've been fishing for three days now, so Teal'c decides this is the night they'll head into town.

It's still early; the sun is just beginning to make its descent and everything is cast in a soft glow. Bursts of orange and pink and purple streak the sky and the air is warm as they make their way through the fair.

There's rides and hot food stands, loud music and bright lights, photo booths and gift stalls. The smell of sweet popcorn and cotton candy and chilli dogs fills the air, and the sound of children's laughter and squeals of delight carry in the gentle Minnesotan breeze.

Jack glances over just as Daniel points out the carousel to Teal'c and he can't help but smile as the Jaffa produces a camera and takes a photo. He finds it odd and amusing but strangely touching as well, because while Daniel is their resident photographer off-world, when it comes to being Earth-side, Teal'c is always the one who documents their team nights together.

With a fond shake of his head, he lets his gaze slide to Carter. She's walking a half-step in front and to his left; just enough that he can watch her without being too obvious. Or so he thinks.

"What do you say, sir?" she suddenly asks, her eyes bright and shining and he can see the challenge and mischief mixed in with an ease he hasn't seen in her for a while. "Shall we?"

He flicks his gaze between her and the carousel and back, and whilst it isn't really his thing _at all_ , he's not about to look a gift horse – no pun intended – in the mouth because he never expected to get Sam up to his cabin in the first place but now that she is here he isn't about to waste this time they have together, so with a grin he places a hand on the small of her back and guides her towards the ride.

They spot Daniel and Teal'c watching them with amusement as they complete each rotation of the carousel and in the end they're only on it for a few minutes but Jack feels it's worth every second just to watch her. How, when around halfway through the ride, he leans in and tells her a crappy joke about undomesticated equines and she throws her head back and laughs. In that moment, she looks happy and carefree and beautiful. The picture makes his heart race and he think that this – _this_ is what he wants.

When the ride is over, Jack quickly jumps down from his horse and reaches out a hand to help Sam from hers. He knows that she can manage perfectly fine on her own, but it's something he wants to do and he's a little surprised when she doesn't hesitate and takes his hand. But then he's left even more surprised when they step off the carousel and instead of pulling her hand away, she twists her fingers slightly so they entwine with his. She doesn't quite meet his eye, but there's a smile playing around her lips. A smile that finally breaks through when he squeezes her fingers in reassurance and adjusts his grip so her hand fits perfectly in his.

They meet Daniel and Teal'c a short distance away and Jack can't help but notice that while they don't say anything, they're both sporting identical and all-too-smug smiles.

He rolls his eyes good-naturedly, then gently pulls Sam in the direction of the next ride and waits until he knows his friends are following before he half-turns.

"I'm gonna need a copy of those," he grins as he points at the camera now hanging around Teal'c's neck, knowing full well that he captured the moment everything changed for him and Sam.


	209. All Or Nothing

**Author's Note: Written for 'All Or Nothing Day' (26 July), a day for people to "break through their barriers, ignore the fears that hold them back, and make that big commitment to a better life." Episode tag for 'Threads'.**

* * *

He doesn't know if they've been staring at each other for five minutes or fifty. He isn't even sure if either of them has uttered another word ever since Sam appeared on his doorstep and voiced her question.

 _Do you want this?_

He knows the answer already, but what he should say and what he wants to say are two slightly different things. He wants nothing more than to close the distance between them, take her in his arms and tell her that he loves her, but eight years of rules and regulations; eight years of denying himself the one thing he's only ever wanted in that time, is hard to just throw by the wayside.

That, and he's also acutely aware that she's still vulnerable. She's in mourning, having just lost her father, but also her fiancé and whilst a part of him isn't exactly upset to see the cop out of the picture, it does affect him if it affects Sam.

 _Do you want this?_ Her question echoes in his mind. He does, but neither of them knows what the future holds for them now that the Goa'uld and Replicators have been defeated, and even though Jack had already picked retirement, Hammond and President Hayes have other ideas. He can't leave the Program yet, and he has a sneaking suspicion that Sam won't be allowed to leave either. But he would never, ever make her give up her career for him, or force her into a job that she would hate just so they could be together.

There is, however, a loophole. One they can take advantage of and it won't be easy but it's the best option they have.

"Do you want this, Jack?" she repeats.

The universe, it seems, has finally taken their side.

"Hell, yeah," he eventually whispers as he takes a slow step forward. "But before we go any further, Carter – _Sam,_ " he quietly corrects. "You have to know that I'm all in here."

He holds her gaze and waits for her to process the information and then she's just inches away from him and she smiles.

"That's good to know, Jack," she whispers, her lips brushing against his, "because it's all or nothing for me too."

* * *

 **Just a friendly reminder that Ship Day is this Sunday (28 July). If anyone wants more details, or wants to get involved, whether you're a writer, artist or vidder, please drop me a message. Thanks!**


	210. Parental Concern

**Author's Note: Written for 'Parents Day' (27 July). Missing scene for _Death Knell._**

* * *

"Shouldn't you be resting?"

Jacob glanced up to see Jack making his way across the infirmary, before he turned his attention back to his daughter.

"Selmak is handling it."

He could feel Jack's gaze on him, as if deciding whether or not he was telling the truth, and he was just about to repeat his answer when he heard a chair being pulled up beside him, right before the colonel sat down.

"How's she doing?"

"Better now that she's home."

Jack didn't respond, but Jacob knew his attention had shifted to Sam who lay unconscious in the infirmary bed, and he leaned forward slightly. "I never thanked you."

"For what?"

"For finding her."

"I promised you I would."

"I know," he sighed. "You're the only one I trusted to do it, you know."

"I –"

"Don't get me wrong," he quickly interrupted, "Daniel and Teal'c are great and I trust them too, but with you, it's different."

 _"Jacob."_

He heard the warning in Jack's voice but chose to ignore it.

"I worry about her out there; not knowing where she is or what she's doing."

"Carter would say the same about you."

"Maybe," he conceded, "but isn't it a parent's prerogative to worry about their child? A child shouldn't have to worry about their mom or dad."

Jack shifted uncomfortably in his chair and Jacob suddenly felt a pang of guilt.

"I'm sorry, Jack. I didn't mean –"

"It's fine," he interrupted. "Look, Jacob, I –"

"I need you to look after Sam for me."

Silence was his answer and he risked a glance to his right to find Jack staring at him in surprise.

 _"Excuse me?"_

"I have to go," he shrugged helplessly. "The alliance... it's falling apart and I – Selmak – needs to return to the Tok'ra to try and rebuild some trust."

"Carter almost died out there –"

"I know," he said, his anger rising, "and believe me, it pisses me off that they choose _now_ to start walking away from something we've worked so hard to build, but –" he sighed in frustration and was thankful when Jack understood.

"It's the job."

"Yeah." Jacob took a deep breath and continued. "I don't want to go but I can do more out there to keep you all safe."

 _Sacrifice for the greater good,_ Jacob reminded himself.

"When do you leave?"

"I'm just waiting for Sam to wake up."

"She'll miss you. We all will."

"George told me she's had a rough year."

"Yeah," Jack mumbled, his gaze falling to his hands. "It hasn't been easy on her."

"Or you?"

 _"Jacob."_

"I'm just saying," he defended, "as her commanding officer, it couldn't have been easy."

He refused to look away when Jack glared at him and instead pressed on with what he really wanted to say.

"But I know you have her back and that you'll do anything in your power to keep her safe and keep bringing her home."

The saw the muscles in Jack's jaw tighten so he leaned in closer and lowered his voice. "Keep her safe for me, Jack."

Slowly, Jack met his gaze.

"Yes, sir," he whispered. With a final nod, he got to his feet and moved the chair back to where he found it. Just before he went to leave, he turned back to Jacob and reached out, clasping his shoulder.

"Stay safe out there, Dad. We'll be waiting for you to come back home too."

* * *

 **This was** _ **such**_ **a struggle today, so I apologize if it's out of character, or pure cheese, or a completely unbelievable scenario.  
** **  
** **On a better, brighter note, happy 22nd birthday Stargate!**


	211. Minnesotan Magic

**Author's Note: Written for 'Ship Day' (28 July).**

 **So, today was Ship Day (yay!) and in the spirit of the celebration, I'm doing things slightly different with this series today because whilst 'Ship Day' is not officially recorded on the calendar, it should be. So, I'm using it as today's holiday. Enjoy!**

 **Episode tag for** _ **Threads**_ **.**

* * *

Sam looked out the passenger window and studied her surroundings. The trees had multiplied significantly in number within the last few minutes so she felt it safe to assume that their intended destination was nearby.

Butterflies filled her stomach and she closed her eyes. She really needed to focus on something, _anything_ , except the bundle of nerves growing inside her.

"Relax, Carter. You're making me nervous."

"Sorry, sir."

"Ah!" He scolded, lifting an index finger in the air. "We had a deal, remember?"

A shy smile shaped her lips and she felt herself relax at his easy tone, but she waited until the General had returned his attention to the road again before she looked back out the window.

"I believe you also broke the deal."

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw him turn to stare at her and she resisted the urge to grin.

"Fine," he sighed dramatically, _"Samantha."_

The sound of her name rolling off his tongue quickly put an end to her amusement and she silently scolded herself. She was thirty-six years old, not sixteen. With a sigh, she tried to put any inappropriate thoughts she had away, when the General's voice cut through her musings.

"Why are you nervous? It was your idea to go fishing," he grinned.

"I'm not nervous," she said glancing over at him.

" _Purlease,_ Carter. You're fidgeting more than Daniel after he's pulled an all-nighter on nothing but caffeine."

When Sam didn't answer, Jack frowned. "What's wrong?"

"I don't know," she shrugged.

She studied her hands and refused to meet his gaze but then she felt the truck slow and she looked up, frowning in confusion when they were still surrounded by trees – but there was no log cabin in sight.

"What –"

"Look at me, Sam," Jack said softly as he switched the engine off and turned in his seat to face her.

He waited until she met his gaze before he reached over and gently cupped her cheek.

"As glad as I am that you're _finally_ here, this week is for you to relax and forget about things. Anything else," he added, throwing her a lopsided grin, "Well, we'll just see what happens, OK?"

She nodded, feeling better already. She knew he was right; he always was. They'd already had _the talk_ and knew what they both wanted – to be together no matter what – but this was the first time they would be alone for a couple of days and while they were still technically commanding officer and second-in-command, they also weren't.

"You think too much, Carter," Jack quipped as he switched the engine back on and started driving. "Feel better?"

"Yes, thank you, _Jack._ "

"Good. We're nearly there."

Less than a minute later and Sam gasped at sight. Ever since that first invitation, she'd tried to imagine what his cabin looked like, but nothing had prepared her for the sheer beauty and feeling of peace she felt as they stopped in front of the dwelling.

She didn't know how long she'd been staring out the window, but it was only when she heard a soft chuckle to her left, she realized her mouth was hanging open and she'd probably been sitting admiring the view for a little too long.

"You can get out and have a look, y'know," he teased.

Sam flashed him a megawatt smile as she unbuckled the seatbelt. Opening the door, she jumped out of the truck and did a slow 360 before she turned to look at Jack.

"Go. Look. Enjoy," he laughed, waving a hand in the direction of the cabin. "I'll be right behind you."

Sam quickly made her way up the steps to the cabin before she disappeared around the side. She'd just reached the far corner when she froze and Jack heard her sharp intake of breath. He couldn't help but smile as he stepped up behind her and his arms instinctively wrapped around her waist as he walked them towards the edge of the deck. The trees surrounding the lake looked black against the early morning sky and the sun was lying low, throwing the sky into a myriad of pinks, oranges and reds, its reflection bright on the still surface of the lake.

Jack rested his chin on Sam's shoulder and glanced at her.

"So," he murmured, "What do you think?"

"It's beautiful," she whispered, her attention focused on the landscape in front.

"Yes, it is," he agreed, only his attention was on her.

"You were right," she added quietly. "I love it."

He pulled her closer and placed a kiss behind her ear. "See, I told ya," he replied with a smug smile.

It may have taken five years to finally get her to Jack O'Neill's cabin, but as she leaned further into his embrace, Sam realized it had definitely been worth the wait.

* * *

 **Happy Ship Day!**


	212. Lipstick

**Author's Note: Written for 'Lipstick Day' (29 July). Set post-series.**

* * *

She's wearing that shade of lipstick; the one that tends to short-circuit his brain and send his blood quickly rushing south. _Sin_ , he thinks it's called which is fitting considering how their evenings tend to go when she chooses to wear that particular color.

And she knows it too, so when she gives him a cocky smile and wastes no time in closing the gap between them to press her lips to the corner of his, he knows there's a perfect dark red outline of Samantha Carter's lips left behind.

It's the same mark that she's now leaving against the sensitive skin just behind his ear – and he knows _exactly_ where her next target is. Moments later, he feels her tongue flick against his neck and she's just about to replace the touch with a kiss when he turns slightly – and her lips make contact with the collar of his dress blues shirt.

Then, there's just a second that passes before she freezes and leans back to look at him, silently questioning whether he did it on purpose – which he did – and his expression must give him away because she just shakes her head.

"That needs to come off, _now,_ " she whispers in his ear and he's more than happy to oblige.

Because whilst her lipstick mark on his clothes might look hot now, it's going to look even hotter in the morning when she steals the shirt and wears it – and only it – as she makes her way down the stairs and into the kitchen for breakfast.

Slowly, he backs her up against the wall, his fingers entwining with hers as he lifts her arms and holds them either side of her head before he presses his hips against hers.

Yeah, he grins as he leans in and kisses her soundly. He's _definitely_ going to need a new shirt.


	213. Paperback Romance

**Author's Note: Written for 'Paperback Book Day' (30 July).**

* * *

She loves watching him in moments like this; when he is so content and relaxed that he falls into a deep sleep and the noise of her moving around their home doesn't disturb him. It's in those times when she is able to freely watch him without him knowing. Not that he minds; he finds it amusing, and a little ego-stroking, that she still stares at him _all the time_ – but there's something different when he doesn't know.

The way his chest slowly rises and falls with each breath he takes and she wants to press her hand over his heart and feel the steady beat against her palm. The way his salt-and-pepper colored hair, which is more salt than pepper these days, sits in all directions and she wants to run her fingers through the strands. The way his reading glasses sit slightly askew on his nose and the paperback he's been reading lies open, cover-side up, on his stomach.

With a soft smile, she carefully reaches out and slides the book from underneath his fingers. She replaces the bookmark before she closes it and sets it on the coffee table, then she turns and removes his glasses, folding them and setting them on top of the book.

When she turns back around to face him, he's still asleep and her smile widens. Leaning down, she presses a kiss to his cheek.

"I love you, Jack," she whispers.


	214. Cabin Fever

**Author's Note: Written for 'World Ranger Day' (31 July).** **AU.**

* * *

Sam brought her motorcycle to a smooth stop outside the cabin and quickly killed the ignition, kicked down the stand and dismounted the bike. Removing her helmet, she let out a breath she didn't realize she'd been holding as she took in the rustic charm of the dwelling and its surroundings.

Deciding to sort out her bike later, she tucked her helmet under her arm and moved towards the cabin. She only managed a couple of steps before a man came strolling around the corner and they both froze.

"Can I help you?" he asked.

She couldn't clearly see him against the glare of the sun, and she lifted her hand to shield her eyes, slowly moving closer to the stranger.

"I'm staying here for the weekend."

Now standing in the shade, Sam was able to see him much better so she couldn't miss the way his eyebrows rose comically high at her words and the surprise that flitted across his face.

"Well," he said, folding his arms across his chest, "unless you've got a spare bed hooked up to that sweet ride of yours, I don't think so."

"Excuse me?"

With a sigh, he waved a hand vaguely in the direction of the cabin. "This is _my_ cabin."

"Oh." _Oh._ "Then –"

"Let me guess," he interrupted with a sudden wry smile. "You rent a cabin off Andy – and over the phone?"

She nodded, her brow furrowed in confusion because she is convinced she followed the directions she'd been given by Andy.

"Yeah," he said. "Andy hasn't been too well lately – he forgets things," he explained softly, a sadness briefly visible in his eyes. "You're meant to take the third exit on the laneway, not the fourth."

"I see," she answered slowly.

An awkward silence fell between them both and Sam averted her gaze to the ground then back to the man whose cabin she had almost unknowingly gatecrashed.

"Well, I, ah – I should probably –"

"Let me give him a call first," he said. "Just to make sure he's in – and he knows to expect you."

With that, he turned on his heel and jogged up the steps at the front of his cabin. He was just about to step inside when he looked back. "You gonna stay out here or –"

The rest of his sentence hung in the air as he disappeared inside and Sam briefly thought of the danger of following a complete stranger into a wooden cabin in the middle of nowhere. She didn't feel uneasy in his company but it didn't hurt to be careful and –

"If it helps –" She jumped at his voice and looked up to find he'd returned and was leaning against the door frame, the phone against his ear, "I'm the park ranger for this area. I'm not an axe murderer."

She could feel her face burn at the fact that he'd almost seemed to read her mind, and she thought about trying to deny it, but then he grinned and Sam realized – for the first time – just how handsome he was.

Swallowing her pride, she slowly followed him into the cabin and headed towards the living area when he waved her in that direction. The room was rustic and well-worn, but there was a genuine warmth and comfort to be found, and she smiled. She glanced back towards the hall and caught the ranger checking her out. When he met her eye, he blinked in surprise, quickly gestured to the phone and disappeared back into the kitchen.

Despite the circumstances, Sam couldn't help but smile. She also couldn't deny the fact that the man was hot. _Really hot,_ in a rugged kind of way and whilst she didn't tend to go for guys who sported facial hair, his scruff was kind of doing it for her.

She quickly shook her head. She was _so_ not going there.

"We may have a problem."

Sam looked up to see him grimacing as he ran a hand across the back of his neck.

"What's wrong?"

"I can't get a hold of Andy."

"Oh."

"I can drive you over there," he offered, "it's not far. Maybe help see what's going on."

"You don't need to –"

"I'd like to," he suddenly added and Sam can't quite tell who, out of the two of them, is more surprised by the admission.

She studied him for a moment then sighed. "Okay."

"Great," he nodded, but Sam could see he was trying to hide a smile. "Just let me grab my keys."

She'd only just made to the front door when he appeared by her side and pointed to their left. "My truck is around the corner."

As she followed him, she tried to think of something to say to break the silence but she was so lost in her thoughts that she didn't notice he'd stopped in front of his truck and she collided with his chest and his hands instinctively wrapped around her arms as he held her upright.

"Easy," he murmured, and Sam felt herself get a little lost in his eyes.

He eventually et his hands fall by his sides. "So," he said, clearing his throat. "Before we go, there's just one more thing."

Sam watched him warily as he stared at her before he threw her a lopsided grin. "I'm Jack. Jack O'Neill."

"Samantha Carter," she replied a moment later, accepting his outstretched hand.

"Well, _Samantha,_ let's see if we can get you a cabin."

She met his smile and as he helped her into his truck, she tried to ignore the sudden explosion of butterflies in her stomach.

* * *

 **And that is another month done and dusted! I've really enjoyed July; it's been a fun month for these holidays and there are a few of the chapters that I absolutely loved writing. It has also been a huge challenge, however. There were days when I was just so exhausted and my brain didn't want to work; I had no idea what to write and I didn't have the energy to write, but you have all been so amazing and supportive and helped me – again – to keep going. Thank you!**


	215. Canceled Plans

**Author's Note: Written for 'Planner Day' (1 August). Set season 7, after Chimera.**

* * *

With her hands on her hips, Sam looks around her lab, deciding on the best place to start. A part of her always looks forward to this week in the SGC's calendar – the summer edition of a 'spring clean' – as it finally gives her a chance to sort through the paperwork and notes she's made over the past year but never had the time to file away properly or complete. The downside, however, is that the week is also a reminder of the work she _could_ be exploring further if she wasn't on the frontlines. She does love it out there in the heat of the battle but lately she's been thinking about the future and if she should switch to a more lab-based position. It's a decision she doesn't want to make right now – maybe in a year or two – so she quickly pushes the thought aside and moves towards the filing cabinet at the far corner of the room.

Looking inside, she decides to start with the bottom shelf and retrieves a pile of papers and notebooks. The first dozen pages are old memos that can be destroyed so she places them into the cardboard box she's set aside for junk, but when she reaches for the next item she freezes. It's her planner from her first year at the SGC, and as part of SG-1, and something she had completely forgotten about. Lifting it from the top of the pile, she finds a number of similar planners underneath. There's six in total and she smiles – one for each year of the Stargate Program. Deciding that her clean-up can wait for a while longer, Sam clears a space on the bench and sits down as she opens the planner from 1997.

As she flicks through the pages, there's nothing overly interesting to be found. Of the days marked, they mostly consist of the dates SG-1 were due to go off-world or return home; birthday reminders for her team, Cassie, Mark and his kids; the usual. With a sigh, she's about to throw the book into the box when the planner falls open at another page and her eyes are drawn to one space in particular. It's been circled three or four times in black ink and inside the shape, written in block capitals, are the words, _"Go home, Carter."_

She glances at the date and realizes it was two days after Jonas Hanson was killed off-world. Following that mission, Sam had spent most of those 48 hours in her lab working her way through her sadness and guilt and anger for her ex-fiancé and the situation as a whole until she wasn't sure what she was feeling – or how she even _wanted_ to feel. The man that died after being pushed through the Stargate was not the man she had once planned to marry; and even though she no longer felt any romantic feelings towards him, Hanson was still a part of her life but it was suddenly no longer there and the loss had left her feeling unsure and confused. It was why she had chosen to hide away from her teammates, and she'd only left her lab when she absolutely had to, like to use the restroom or stretch her aching muscles, but it was on one of those trips that she had returned to her lab to discover the colonel had found his way in and left her the message. Despite not wanting to go home, Sam knew an order when she heard – or rather read one on this occasion – so she obeyed and strangely did feel better when she returned to work the following morning.

Pulling herself from those thoughts, she gently closes the planner and sets it into the box before her hand moves towards the next one on the pile. Her fingers trace over the '1998' embossed on the cover. Again, there's not much information aside from birthday or mission dates but Sam finds herself searching for something else. It takes her a few minutes before she finds what she's been looking for and feels strangely reassured when she does.

Just like the previous year, there's another date circled in black ink. It coincides with the day her father told her he had cancer. The pang of sadness she feels, however, is quickly replaced with relief as she thinks about how differently the situation could have ended had they not discovered the Tok'ra. With a smile, she makes a note to send her dad a message later, and then turns her attention back to Colonel O'Neill's note from five years ago. _"Don't forget to eat."_

When she found out her father was ill, she hadn't eaten the rest of the day. It was the last thing on her mind; she just felt sick and upset and alone. She also felt anger towards her dad and the way he'd announced his cancer diagnosis, then dismissively told her not to worry before he turned around and left. On the flight back to the SGC, Sam – after some cajoling from General Hammond, had found herself confiding the news in her two superiors. The General had offered his apologies, while her commanding officer hadn't said much at all, but she didn't mind. In fact, she appreciated that he didn't feel the need to fill the silence with small platitudes. He just knew that she wasn't ready to talk and instead just needed someone there by her side. So, when he'd casually pressed his arm against hers, the touch had helped ground her and kept a lid on her emotions for a little longer until she could be on her own.

Looking back, she remembers making it to her lab, but in the haze of leaving their private transport and returning to the SGC, the colonel had gotten there first because sitting on the bench, on top of her planner, was a glass of blue Jell-O and a plastic spoon.

Closing the book with a smile, Sam picks up the next one.

"1999", she murmurs wistfully remembering the challenges the team faced that particular year. Immediately, she knows where to turn in the diary and her breath catches at the message she finds. _"Thank you."_

Those two words appeared in her planner almost a week after they'd brought the colonel home from Edora. Almost seven days after Sam realized that her commanding officer hadn't _wanted_ to come home. He'd started to make a new life on the planet with Laira and Sam's unprofessional feelings for her commanding officer was something she had to bury as quickly as she discovered they'd existed in the first place.

The memories, even after all these years, still hurt more than they should and Sam slams the book closed. She doesn't want to keep this one, so she throws it into the box without a second thought.

The year 2000 signifies the fourth planner and it was the year of armbands, Za'tarc's and illicit feelings. The feelings that had slowly been building between her and the colonel finally came to a head – right before everything came crashing down. Ultimately, there was nothing they could do. They'd had no choice but to lock away their admissions and emotions and focus on the job. The Goa'uld were still a massive threat in the galaxy and that was more important than giving in to their feelings. At least that's what Sam tried to convince herself of at the time. And then Martouf had died by her own hand and she found herself grieving for him as well. Everything was confusing and Sam wasn't sure who, exactly, she was mourning the loss of by the end of the day, but after a very long, emotional briefing, she wanted nothing more than to go home. Hammond had approved her request immediately and wasting no time, Sam stopped by her lab to lock it up, only to find Colonel O'Neill had already visited. She was just about to switch off the desk lamp when she caught his message. _"Drive safe."_

She slides this planner to the side and decides it is one to keep. Then, she turns her attention to the one marked 2001. Her blood turns cold and a shiver runs along her spine as she finds the note inside. _"Call me when you're home."_

She remembers how close she came to dying – and not at the hand of a Goa'uld, or on an alien planet – but at the hands of a pair of scientists on Earth. Flashbacks suddenly invade her mind as images and smells and memories from when she was abducted resurface. She's thankful the colonel found her in time, and the means he used to do it, but she tries not to think about how close it was.

She takes a deep breath to try and calm her racing heart but she realizes she's shaking and closes the planner in a hurry as she gets to her feet.

It takes a few moments to regain her equilibrium and Sam's gaze drifts back to the lab bench. There's only one planner left; it's from last year. 2002. Sitting back down, she looks through the pages to find the date she instinctively knows she wants. _"Are you OK?"_

She finds the question circled on the day her father rescued both him and Maybourne from P5X-777's moon. At the time, she refused to go with her dad for the reunion, citing that she had too much paperwork to catch up with. In reality, however, she was too ashamed and angry at herself; not only over how she let Maybourne overpower her, but how she'd also treated Bill Lee. She had let her emotions rule her head and it shone a light on how she really felt about the disappearance of her team leader. That vulnerability was unacceptable to her, so she hid, and hoped it would go away. She should have known she wouldn't be able to hide from him for long though, and he had dropped by her lab not long after he'd returned home to thank her for "saving his sorry ass yet again". She acknowledged his thanks, but their conversation was stifled and she couldn't quite meet his eye, so he didn't hang around too long.

She didn't realize he had written in her planner until he'd left.

Closing the book, Sam throws it on top of the other ones in the box. She's midway through pushing them to the far end of the bench when she hesitates and her attention turns to her current planner. She pulls it towards her and starts to flick through the pages, her actions becoming more and more erratic until she finally sees a note. _"Get some rest."_

The message was written months ago, after she was stranded on the Prometheus, and she frowns when she sees there are no more after that date. Then, it dawns on her. The messages stopped around the same time as Pete arrived on the scene and the discovery feels like a kick in the gut to Sam.

Whether it's been the colonel telling her to go home for the night so that she gets some sleep; or reminding her that there's a team lunch scheduled for thirteen-hundred hours so that she remembers to eat; or a note ordering her to take her pain medication because it really is for her own good, she realizes that this is his way of looking after her. Over the years, it has been his _own_ way of saying he still cares because it's not something he can – or is actually allowed to – say.

But now things are different and it's her fault.

She pushes the planner aside and tries to fight away the tears that threaten to fall.

She doesn't realize how much she misses the notes in her planner until they stop.

* * *

 **Thank you for the messages over the past few weeks; real-life has thrown me quite a few curveballs and everything has been a struggle.**

 **Thank you to ConnieN and agrainne24 for being there to talk and listen; to London88, samcaarter, Caladenia and so many others for their support; to Dottybunny and GWhite; to Alice and bunnyrh and others for the incredible comments and kudos you've been leaving in my absence.** **Thank you.**

 **I will do my best to catch up with this series, but it may take a while.**


	216. Ice Cream Revelations

**Author's Note: Written for 'Ice Cream Sandwich Day' (2 August). Set late season 1.**

* * *

"What's an ice cream sandwich?"

"You remember those chocolate wafers you ate last week?" Jack asks as his gaze shifts from Cassandra to Sam and back again.

When the little girl nods enthusiastically, his smile widens. "Well, if you put some ice cream in between two of the wafers, then you've got yourself an ice cream sandwich."

"It sounds yummy."

He nods in approval and glances over at his teammate. "It tastes yummy too – wouldn't you agree, Captain?"

"I'm afraid I wouldn't know, sir. I have never eaten an ice cream sandwich."

Freezing at her revelation, Jack slowly turns to face her. "Excuse me?"

She is taken aback by his affronted expression and lets her gaze fall to the ground as she shrugs. "Sorry, sir," she says quietly, "but I can't help you with this one."

"But –" he stammers "– it's a hallmark of summer!"

"Really?"

"I can't believe you – you've never had an ice cream sandwich," he questions. _"Never?"_

She slowly meets his eye and can't help but smile at the way he's now staring at her in confusion. "Never, sir."

"Well, why the he– _heck_ not?"

She tries not to laugh at his almost slip-up in front of Cassie, so she just offers him another shrug. "Whenever I wanted ice cream, I always thought it made more sense to just eat it out of a bowl."

"How _boring._ "

"It was either that or the tub," she smiles, ignoring his teasing tone.

Suddenly, Jack is hit with images of Carter eating ice-cream from a tub and, for reasons he refuses to dwell on, he enjoys it more than he should.

"It always depended on the kind of day I was having."

Her voice breaks through his thoughts and he quickly guides both Sam and Cassie towards the ice-cream shop, but then as her words settle in his mind, Jack's amusement starts to fade and he hesitates.

"Did you eat ice-cream out of the tub often?"

"All the time when I was younger."

He's only recently discovered the circumstances surrounding the death of Sam's mother, and the captain's subsequently strained relationship with her father, but a slight frown creases his brow as he wonders just what other kind of things she's had to face growing up.

"What about now?"

The question leaves his lips before he realizes, but her answer doesn't settle the uneasy feeling that's growing in the pit of his stomach.

"Sometimes."

Her smile remains, but it's smaller than it was a moment ago and there's something about the way that she won't quite meet his eye again, that tells him the ritual is something she does more than she wants to admit.

He suddenly feels guilty and wants to ask her what is causing her to do this; is it because she's had a bad day, or because she's upset; or is it down to something he – or the rest of the team – have done and don't know about. He has more questions than answers but he also knows that if he was to ask her outright, she wouldn't be completely honest. Instead, he lets the thoughts swirl around his head and gestures towards the shop.

"Here we are," he says, his hand falling to Sam's lower back as he holds the door open with his other hand, "Prepare yourself, captain. This is going to be an education."

* * *

With a fond smile, Jack watches as Cassie makes her way through the shop and towards the restrooms to wash the remnants of ice cream from her face and hands. Seeing she gets there safely, he then turns his attention to Sam and he grins when he sees she is also covered in ice cream.

Her fingers are sticky and her mouth is surrounded by a thin line of white cream. The image is both amusing and endearing but when she meets his eye and smiles, right before she breaks the stare and her tongue darts out of the corner of her mouth to catch a drop of the ice cream, Jack feels another emotion entirely flare within him. He clears his throat and picks up one of the napkins, handing it to his teammate.

"You got a little something…"

He gestures vaguely in the direction of her lips and when she nods her thanks, he averts his gaze, silently congratulating himself for not offering to help the captain wipe away the last few traces.

"So," he says, picking up another napkin and, focusing on one corner, starts to tear off tiny pieces, "what did you think?"

"I think Cassie was right, sir."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah," she nods. "It was yummy."

A low chuckle escapes him at the description. "Beats eating from the tub anyway, I guess."

He watches her out of the corner of his eye for a reaction to his statement. She nods slowly in agreement, but doesn't give anything else away, so he decides to push the issue a little, knowing that if she fails to answer his question, Cassie will be back soon to break any tension.

"So, what's the deal? Eating from the tub," he adds quietly, when Sam frowns at his question.

"What do you mean?"

"You said it was dependant on the kind of day you were having – are those bad days?"

Her lips form an 'O' shape as she realizes what he is talking about and a light pink blush stains her cheeks. "It's nothing, sir."

"And yet, it's not."

"I don't –"

"I'm not judging you, Captain. I just… want to make sure everything is OK."

"What makes you think things aren't OK?"

He grimaces as he continues to tear the napkin to pieces and avoid her gaze. "Well, without sounding sexist," he starts, "in my experience eating ice cream from the tub is something women do when they're upset or having a bad day. At least, isn't that what they show in the movies?"

He can feel his own face heating at his explanation as he glances at her, a feeling that only intensifies when Sam tries to hide a smile. "So, just thought I'd check," he mumbles self-consciously.

"I appreciate your concern, sir, thank you," she says, placing her own napkin on the small table, her elbow knocking his by accident, "but everything's fine. Really."

"OK," he nods. "That's – that's good."

They sit in silence for a few seconds when he hears Sam clear her throat. "It's not something I did all the time."

He turns to look at her, her words barely above a whisper, as she stares in the direction of the restrooms. "When I was younger, it was only when I was having a bad day. It didn't really help with how I was feeling, but it made me feel better at the same time."

Jack decides not to say anything, choosing to let her finish. "I guess I never felt as _alone_ afterwards," she trails off. "It's silly."

"Nah," he admits. "We all have our own ways of dealing with stuff," he adds, brushing the scraps of napkin towards the center of the table. "Ice cream doesn't sound that bad of a choice in the grand scheme of things."

"Hmm."

They fall into silence when he decides to press further and get at the heart of the issue – and what is really gnawing at him.

"You said you still do it."

"I didn't mean –"

"I didn't realize things were so bad. Are they?"

"They're not," she fires back, and then realizing where they are, winces and mumbles an apology. "It's just – permission to speak freely, sir?"

He frowns slightly, but nods and waits.

"I haven't had the easiest start to – this job," she says after a beat, "none of us have, but things _are_ fine. _I'm_ fine."

Jack's frown deepens as he leans back in his chair and realizes that she's right. Not even two weeks into her position on SG-1, the captain had been kidnapped and beaten while on Simarka; then, she'd been stabbed in the stomach by another member of the SGC as a result of the Touched virus; and then there was the whole mess with Jonas Hanson…

He winces at the recollection of their first handful of missions and he now knows that he should have been paying more attention. He learned quickly as to the kind of officer Carter is and how she was so desperate to prove herself to him; to prove her worth at being assigned to SG-1, that she would never admit if there was a problem. She refuses to admit weakness or let it show – she's already proven that on their missions – and he realizes that while he appreciates that his teammate can focus on with the job even if something is bothering her, the situation is not acceptable either. They are a _team_ and he needs to let her know that she can trust him and talk to him and tell him when something is wrong.

"Captain – _Sam,_ " he amends, ignoring how her eyebrows rise in surprise at the use of her first name. "As your commanding – I mean – you shouldn't – this job is – it's different," he finally says. "Our team – we operate in a different way to other units within the Air Force," he shrugs, "so you need – you should feel that you can come to me if something's bothering you. We're all still learning to work together, but we also need to trust each other. A hundred percent. Don't keep it to yourself. OK?"

He watches as Sam's expression hardens and he thinks his offer to talk sounds actually more like an order.

"Let me rephrase that," he sighs, "if you get another rough day, or ever feel like you need to eat ice cream by the tub… Sometimes it's OK to try an ice-cream sandwich instead."

"I –"

He holds Sam's gaze and he sees the moment she understands what he is trying to say. He feels strangely relieve, but just as she is about to answer, Cassie drops onto the empty chair at the other side of the table and they both jump. He's the first to recover.

"Please tell me the sticky fingers are gone."

Cassie giggles at his horrified expression and holds up two freshly washed hands.

"Atta girl," he grins, then gets to his feet. "C'mon. Your mom will be wondering where you are."

He leads the little girl out of the shop, and gestures for Sam to follow but she stops in the doorway as she reaches him, her face just inches from his, and she smiles shyly.

"Thank you, sir."

"For what?"

"For letting me discover the benefits of an ice cream sandwich."

He tries to think of a response, but she leaves him speechless as he remains standing in the doorway with a grin on his face and he knows that while it is only a start, they're going to be okay.

* * *

 **Sorry if this one is, well, boring.**


	217. Out Of Bounds

**Author's Note: Written for 'Disc Golf Day' (3 August). AU.**

* * *

"OK," Jack said as he jumped out of his truck and made his way towards the park. "Today, we're going to teach you the art of disc golf."

"Disc golf?"

"What is disc golf?"

Freezing mid-stride, he spun on his heel to face his two teammates. "Teal'c, I can understand your confusion, but Daniel you – actually, I kinda get your uncertainty too," he shrugged, remembering that the archaeologist, when not traveling to other planets, tended to have his nose buried in a book.

"What's that supposed to mean?" Daniel asked, pushing his glasses further up his nose and Jack resisted the urge to make a joke about geeks and sports.

"Never mind," he mumbled instead. "C'mon."

He made his way onto one of the empty courts, adjacent to the children's play park, and waited for the others to join him.

"So, disc golf..."

* * *

Jack thought he'd explained the concept of the game pretty well – until he finished speaking and the first question Teal'c had asked was, 'what is golf?' and he realized that television, in hindsight, probably would have been a better option for their day off work. But he had committed himself to teaching his friend the finer aspects of life on Earth, so he decided to continue with his plan, and just explain anything else along the way – and hopefully with Daniel's help.

He lifted a frisbee from the pile and handed it to Teal'c. "Here, take this," he said, ignoring the Jaffa's confused expression. "So, you see that target over there," he continued, pointing to the left of the court, "try and get the frisbee as close as you can."

When Teal'c just stared, Jack waved towards the target. "You don't need to hit it. Just... as close you can," he repeated.

Slowly, his friend looked down at the frisbee then back at him. "What is the purpose of this endeavour?"

"It's a game, Teal'c," Jack said with a long-suffering sigh. "It's supposed to be fun."

"I do not understand why one would undertake such a recreational activity."

"I – oh, for crying out loud," he muttered under his breath before he stepped forward and gestured for Teal'c to hand over the frisbee. He adjusted his stance to face the target and threw the disc in its direction; it landed a few feet away, but he didn't mind. "You see," he smiled, " _fun._ Now, do you think you could give it a go?"

It took the Jaffa a few seconds to respond, and he didn't appear entirely convinced when he did, but it was enough for Jack. With an encouraging slap to Teal'c's shoulder, he handed him another frisbee. "Go get 'em, tiger."

When Teal'c simply raised an eyebrow, Jack gestured for him to continue. He grinned as he stepped forward, his gaze focused on the target as he reached back and then threw the frisbee onto the court. Only it didn't stop and went soaring over the boundary fence and towards the playpark. Jack's amusement faded, while Daniel tried and failed miserably to hide his smile.

"That was... great," he nodded. "But next time, try and keep it on the court."

"Stay here and practice. I'll go and find it," he added hastily when Teal'c raised a brow.

As he made his way off the court and towards the park Jack couldn't help but laugh at his friends and the ways in which he now filled his days – when he was on Earth, anyway. A few months ago, he'd been on a dark, lonely and desperate road to self-destruction but his team had given him a new meaning in life for which he was thankful.

He reached the park and, knowing approximately where the frisbee landed, headed in that direction. There was someone standing nearby, but Jack didn't pay much attention as he looked around.

"I think I have what you're looking for."

Spinning around, he turned to find a woman smiling at him and he froze as a flicker of warmth ignited in his chest. She was beautiful and he had to stop himself from admitting that she was _exactly_ what he had been looking for. Before he could say anything incriminating though, she interrupted his thoughts and held up the frisbee.

"Is this yours?"

He suddenly felt ridiculous at being called out over for a children's toy but he had no choice but to admit it. "Yeah, it is."

"Your kid mustn't know his own strength.

"He's a... big kid," Jack shrugged, then grimaced. "Actually, he's a colleague. We were trying to teach him the finer aspects of disc golf, and I guess he –"

"Disc golf?"

It was then, he realized, that he had been babbling and the woman was trying her best to hide her amusement. The sight fanned the flames of desire and he felt himself start to grin, so he decided he'd nothing to lose and took a step towards her.

"Oh yeah," he said with exaggerated enthusiasm, "don't tell me you've never heard of it?"

"I've heard my nephew mention it – but I can't say I know the particulars."

She held the frisbee towards him but instead of taking it from the opposite side, Jack took it closer to the edge the woman was holding and let his fingers brush over hers as he took the item back.

"The particulars," he murmured. "Well, I just might be able to help you there. I'm an expert."

"Really?"

"Yep," he said. "It's all about –"

 _"Jack!"_

He looked over his shoulder just in time to see Daniel and Teal'c approach and he resisted the urge to sigh.

"We wondered what was taking you so long, oh –" Daniel paused, his eyes widening when he noticed the woman, "– hello."

"Hi," she smiled. "Are these your colleagues?"

"Yeah," Jack answered distractedly, but when he glanced at her, she was watching his friends curiously.

"You'll have to blame me for that," she continued easily. "I found your frisbee."

"Yeah, about that," Jack interrupted. "How –"

"It landed at my feet," she chuckled. "I was so confused when it seemed to appear out of nowhere."

He grinned and was just about to make a quip when Daniel said, "Do you come here often?"

Piercing Daniel with a look, the younger man shrugged. "I don't think I've seen you around here before."

Another smile escaped her and Jack wondered what he could say to make her smile like that, when she spared a glance in his direction. "I'm visiting family."

Suddenly, calls of "aunt Sam" broke into the conversation and the woman looked back over her shoulder where a little girl waved at her from the swings.

"I really need to go," the woman Jack now knew was called Sam, apologized, "but it was nice meeting you."

Her words addressed them all, but she looked at Jack.

"Good luck with your game," she smirked as she walked away.

Jack watched her as she made her way over to her niece and started to push her on the swings, so he missed the look his two teammates shared.

"You should ask her out, Jack."

Snapping into action, he tapped his knuckles against the frisbee and shook his head at Daniel's suggestion.

"Why would I do that?" he asked. "C'mon, let's try this again," he added, holding up the frisbee.

He turned away from the park and towards the court, not waiting to see if Daniel or Teal'c followed. A part of him did want to ask her out – just another opportunity to see her again – but he quickly forced those thoughts away and decided it would be easier to not know her than to get to know her. Especially if she was even a fraction of how amazing he suspected she was. In those few minutes he'd spent in her company, he realized he liked her a lot more than he was probably supposed to.

So, he told himself it didn't matter; because once her vacation with her family finished, Sam would be returning home. It was better that way and better that he didn't get involved, because if he did happen to see her again and she proved his theories right, Jack didn't think he could handle not seeing her again.


	218. Sister, Sister

**Author's Note: Written for 'Sister's Day' (4 August). Episode tag for 'Line In The Sand'.**

* * *

 _Mark? It's Jack. Can you catch the next flight out to Colorado? Sam, she – she's been hurt. She's going to need you._

The conversation with Jack that afternoon a few weeks ago was short, but it still makes Mark's blood run cold and a heavy weight settle on his chest. He initially assumed the worst because, of the few official USAF calls he's ever received, they've always carried bad news and he remembers with striking clarity the genuine sorrow and anger in Jack's words as he spoke. But although he insisted Sam would make a full recovery – even if it would take weeks – Mark hasn't forgotten the fear he heard in his brother-in-law's voice. And it scares him because it tells him more than words ever will as to how close he came to losing his sister.

Mark runs a hand over his face as he pushes those thoughts aside and steps away from the kitchen window to lean against the worktop. From here, he's able to study Sam undetected as she remains alone in the back yard. He watches her closely and – because he still hasn't been told the exact details of the mission – he's still in the dark about her injuries, but he's seen the swathes of bandages around her midriff and the painkillers she takes when she thinks no-one is looking. It's been three days since she was finally released from the infirmary and whilst Sam seems to be dealing with her recovery as best she can, Mark knows it isn't enough and it's leaving her frustrated.

He notices the way she's been moving around her home and how she flinches if she turns too quickly. So, she tries to move slow, as if she is rethinking and double-checking every action in case she causes herself further, unnecessary pain. Even now, she nestles her arm tightly against her ribs as she sits down on one of the deck chairs, as if holding her palm on her stomach will ease the ache she feels. Sam's gaze wanders to the star-filled night sky and she exhales deeply, her breath fogging in front of her face. It's a cold evening, the seasons preparing to change, and Mark rolls his eyes when he sees the light sweater she's wearing, but she's already said she isn't ready to come inside yet, so while he thinks about taking her a jacket, he can't quite bring himself to disturb her.

He's hit with a pang of guilt for the years he has wasted. He hadn't seen Sam in a long time until she and their father suddenly appeared at his front door seven years ago. They've tried to make up for lost time since, but he still feels remorse for being absent from her life. The two of them are certainly closer than they were before and although they'd only seen each other a few times with their dad, since his death they have made more of an effort to visit and to stay in touch regularly because they are the only family they have left.

With a sigh, Mark turns his attention back to his sister. She's still the same Samantha Carter he's always known, but she's different. In a way, time has been good to her. She looks incredible and she has a natural beauty that surrounds and permeates everything around her. Her blue eyes and blonde hair still make her as recognizable as ever, and a smile graces his lips as he thinks about the impression Sam's left on various men over the years – and she hasn't even realized. Even at school, she caught the eye of a number of her male classmates but was oblivious to their attentions. Her education was more important; her brain too big and smart for anything less, which garnered her even more attention. Unbeknown to Sam though, he'd had to step in on a few occasions during their school days to warn off a few of the jocks.

As they'd grown older, he'd never really known Sam to date, or have a real interest in dating, but not long after she moved to Washington he heard about Jonas and the couple's subsequent engagement. He never met the guy, but from what he's heard since, he knows the relationship wouldn't have ended well. But aside from Jonas, he'd never heard Sam talk about her personal life and whenever he did press her on the issue she always had an excuse ready. So, that was why he eventually decided to introduce her to Pete.

Sam had appeared on his doorstep out-of-the-blue one afternoon, much like she had years earlier with their dad, but she was a broken woman. Mark didn't know what had happened; all Sam ever said was that it was a "bad mission" and she needed time "to work some things out". He saw the difference in her though; something had happened and changed her.

He thought Pete would be just the distraction she needed, but that was all it proved to be; a distraction. Because just as suddenly as she'd appeared at his home that day, Sam had called him ten days before her wedding to tell him that their dad had died and she had ended her engagement.

Whether it was shock or anger or sadness Mark still isn't sure, but he does remember the two of them arguing after their father's memorial service. He'd made a snide comment about her second failed engagement; she'd told him to leave and they hadn't spoken for weeks afterwards. However, following a nudge from his wife, he'd finally swallowed his pride and reached out to Sam. His apology saw him boarding a flight out to Colorado Springs just two days later to see his sister before she left for Nevada. He was initially surprised when he heard about her new orders – orders that were taking her away from the front line – but that was nothing compared to the surprise he received when he arrived at Sam's house and General O'Neill had answered the door.

He immediately had his suspicions as to why his sister's commanding officer was at her home and acting so _at home_ , but then Daniel and "T" had also made an appearance, so he decided against saying anything. He did spend that afternoon just watching the odd team together, however; the way they swapped stories as they helped Sam pack up her home and how they didn't need to verbally communicate what they were doing. They just knew each other so well. In one way, he was glad to see that the three of them were looking out for Sam, but he couldn't help focus on the General. The way he acted around Sam or stole glances when he thought no-one else was looking or how, every so often, he'd share a small, secretive smile with his sister.

When her team eventually left, Sam later admitted that she and Jack were in a relationship, but stressed it was no longer against regulations. It was then, Mark understood _why_ Pete had been left behind.

There was never going to be competition. Jack O'Neill had stolen his sister's heart.

 _Sam – she's been hurt. She's going to need you._

The General's words replay over and over in his head and Mark thinks, not for the first time since Sam's injury, that she isn't the only one that needs him here.

He's watched Jack over the past few days; how he's looked at his sister and taken care of her. He's witnessed the love and care they both have for each other; so strong and engrained so deeply within the other, that he doesn't know what would have happened if Sam hadn't made it home. He tells himself it doesn't bear thinking about.

"She still out there?"

Mark's pulled from his reverie at Jack's sudden question and he offers a half-smile. "Yeah, it's cold out there though. I was going to see if she was ready to come in."

"Nah," the older man says softly as he comes to a stop by Mark's side and glances out the window. His gaze rests on Sam and out of the corner of his eye, Mark sees the General's gaze soften. "Give her a couple more minutes."

Sighing, Jack tears his attention from Sam and gestures towards the kitchen table. He pulls two beers from the fridge before he joins Mark.

"She's going to be OK… right?"

His question is met with silence, but something in Mark's gut tells him not to push the issue.

"I'm trying to pull a few strings," Jack eventually admits. His voice is quiet and his gaze is focused on the bottle in hands as he picks at the label. "To get you read into the Program."

"Oh," Mark frowns, slightly confused. "I don't – the Program?"

"Yeah," Jack nods, then slowly meets his gaze. "I think you deserve to know about Sam's job. I've been fighting to get you clearance for a while," he shrugs, "but now – I think it's the least we can do."

Mark draws in a breath and lets it out slowly. "Does Sam know about this?"

"No." A wry smile briefly twists Jack's lips. "I wanted to get everything approved first and then give her the choice."

"I see," he answers slowly. "So, I shouldn't –"

"Mention any of this to her? No."

They fall into a comfortable silence and Mark glances briefly out to the back yard before risking a look at Jack.

"What if they say no?"

The muscles in Jack's jaw tighten. "How good are you at keeping secrets?"

"I – uh – pretty good?"

"Then I'll keep that in mind."

He nods once as he gets to his feet and grabs Sam's jacket from the back of the chair before he heads out to the back yard. From his spot at the kitchen table, Mark watches them from afar as Jack gently places the coat around Sam's shoulders and she leans into his embrace. He smiles softly, knowing his sister is going to be just fine.


	219. Underneath Your Clothes

**Author's Note: Written for 'Underwear Day' (5 August). Missing scene for season 10s 'Family Ties'.**

* * *

Sam stacked the last of the dishes away and dried her hands on a towel as she glanced around the kitchen, deciding what she should tackle next. Almost immediately, however, a snort escaped her at the thought because – technically – there was nothing for her _to_ tackle. She had already finished a wash, tidied the house and even changed the oil in her motorcycle.

She huffed out a breath and briefly thought about heading into the SGC early to do some work before they shipped out on their latest mission but as quickly as that thought appeared, Sam dismissed it as well. It wasn't that she didn't want to go into work, she just didn't want to go into work.

OK, so she _might_ have been sulking slightly, but she'd had _very_ different plans for this weekend. Plans that involved her husband flying in from Washington to spend a couple of days with her before she went off-world. However, the day before Jack was due to fly out to Colorado Springs, the IOA decided that they should rearrange a few of their meetings so they could fit even more in, meaning that her husband now had to spend his weekend in D.C. and it would be at least another three weeks before they'd see each other again.

It wasn't the first weekend Jack – or she – had to cancel but with everything that had happened recently, she just needed to be near him. Closing her eyes, Sam took a deep breath and tried to pull herself together and not let her upset or annoyance show. They had both agreed going into their relationship that their jobs were still important and they would do their duty. It didn't make things easier though.

Deciding to find something to occupy her thoughts, Sam headed towards the spare room in Jack's house – which had since been converted into an office – but she only managed a few steps when there was a knock at the front door.

She opened the door and couldn't hide her surprise when she saw Vala standing on the doorstep.

"Vala! I – uh –"

Her teammate grinned before she threw her arms around her in a hug and then pushed her way into the house.

"What are you –"

On the driveway, movement caught Sam's eye and she looked over to see Daniel wave at her and a look of relief wash over his face before put his car into reverse and backed out onto the street. She narrowed her eyes.

 _"Samantha!"_

 _She was going to kill Daniel._

With a sigh, she closed the door and made her way towards the kitchen to find her friend opening and closing different cabinet doors.

"Vala, why are –"

"Where do you keep the coffee?"

"Over there," she pointed. "Look, it's not that I mind you being here, but –"

"Daniel said you might like some company," she shrugged, then she added far-too-innocently for Sam's liking, "you know, because your handsome General isn't able to make it home this weekend."

"How do you – I mean, that's not… did Daniel tell you that?"

Another shrug was her answer before Vala turned to look at her. "Why else would you be at home sulking?"

"I am not sulking."

"You keep telling yourself that, Samantha," she said distractedly, before she clapped her hands together. "We should do something."

"I thought you were making coffee."

"We should go to the mall."

"We have a mission later today."

"Oh," Vala sighed dramatically. "That's not for another few hours. We've plenty of time."

"Vala –"

The rest of Sam's sentence was cut off however, as Vala brushed by her and headed down the hallway towards the bedroom.

"You need to change!"

"What?" She glanced down at her t-shirt and jeans and frowned before following. "Why?"

"It's going to be a girl's day out," she answered, as if it was the most obvious reason in the world. "That means it's _our_ day. It's all about _us._ "

"I don't think –"

 _"Sam,"_ Vala interrupted as she turned to face her. "Please? Look, I know you probably don't feel up to it, but I think it'll be good for you to get out. That," she said as she turned around and headed into Sam's bedroom, "and I still need to get acquainted with your planet's customs."

"We take you out to places all the time," she pointed out.

"Yeah," she conceded, "but I've since discovered the shopping channels – and shopping is something we haven't done together."

Sam hesitated as she watched Vala start lifting out clothes from her wardrobe and happily have a one-way conversation about what she wanted to do when they arrived at the mall. Maybe spending some time doing normal, civilian activities would be a good thing, she told herself. Getting to know Vala better as a friend was another positive.

"OK," she smiled when a dress and a pair of boots were thrown into her arms. "This could be fun."

* * *

Sam shook her head in amusement as Vala disappeared into the changing room for the third time with another armful of clothes. She'd already chosen her purchases – with some persuasion from her friend – and now she was just waiting until Vala was happy she had tried on every item in the store. She wasn't getting annoyed or impatient, she was actually rather enjoying the downtime and made a mental note to thank her later.

She was just about to see how she was getting on when her cell phone rang. Pulling it from her pocket, she didn't look at the caller ID. "Carter?"

"Hey."

"Hi," she answered softly, a smile twisting her lips as she heard Jack's voice over the line.

"I tried calling your lab but there was no answer."

"Because I'm not there."

"Yeah, I gathered that." She heard him grin down the phone and she couldn't help her own smile widening. "So, whatcha doin'?"

"I'm shopping."

"Shopping," he repeated slowly and she pictured his brows furrowed in confusion at the idea of her shopping. "On the SGC's time?"

"Ha _ha,_ " she quipped, then glanced around to make sure Vala was still busy. "I'll have you know it wasn't my idea."

"I see. Let me guess… Vala?"

A soft chuckle escaped her. "How'd you know?"

"Daniel may have mentioned that she was driving him crazy."

Despite actually enjoying her girl's day out, suddenly, Daniel dropping Vala off at her house this morning made more sense than the archaeologist being thoughtful and suggesting she might like some company to keep her mind off her original plans.

 _She was definitely going to kill Daniel._

"Well," she finally answered. "Since a certain General had to cancel his plans to visit this weekend, I had no other choice."

"What are you shopping for anyway?"

"Um," she hesitated and felt herself blush. "I'm not sure you want to know."

"Wh– why?"

She shrugged, even though he couldn't see her. "Because."

" _Carter._ " She heard the curiosity – and smile – in his voice. "Color me curious."

"Fine," she sighed. "I'm currently standing in the middle of Victoria's Secret."

A moment of silence passed before a groan escaped her husband. She grinned wickedly down the phone. "Don't say I didn't warn you."

"You're gonna be the death of me, Carter."

* * *

 **Season 9-10 of SG-1 isn't really my thing, but ever since I heard Sam utter the line "pedicures, mochaccinos, and Victoria's Secret" in relation to "local cultural offerings", it's bugged me. For one, it seems a little OOC; I'm not saying she doesn't get pedicures or shop in VS, _but_ she never mentioned it before. In fact, from the beginning AT wanted to portray her character as someone who wasn't all about make-up and sexy underwear. So, then I got to thinking… there has to be a reason as to why she suddenly _could_ be going for pedicures and shopping for underwear and it's clearly because she has someone waiting to share those things with, i.e. Jack.**

 **It makes perfect sense. So, that is my headcanon, and I am sticking to it.**


	220. Wiggle Room

**Author's Note: Written for 'Wiggle Your Toes Day' (6 August). Set during season 7. Angst.**

* * *

The Jaffa patrol takes them by surprise on the way back to the Stargate. Within seconds, shots are being exchanged across the deserted village square and the smell of smoke and stench of blood and death fill the air.

The colonel shouts orders over the sound of staff blasts and gunfire and the team are able to hold the enemy off long enough until they find cover on the outskirts of the clearing. It isn't much; a broken stone wall, a large wooden barrel, a fallen tree, but it is all they have right now. The battle continues to wage – for five minutes or fifteen – Sam isn't sure but she is acutely aware that she and her team are quickly running out of ammo. The enemy also has a few more numbers on their side, but after the colonel hits one of the patrol and Teal'c takes out another, it starts to feel like they are reaching a stalemate. Neither side appear to be gaining the advantage.

Sam risks looking up and re-counts the Jaffa left before she inserts a new clip into her gun. She glances again and pauses, realizing there is one now missing. There were definitely seven Jaffa moments earlier. Now, there's only six.

Suddenly, movement out of the corner of her eye draws her attention and she catches sight of the breakaway warrior looping back towards where her commanding officer and Teal'c are situated. She signals across the square and they nod in confirmation; they've also spotted him and are just waiting until one of them has a clear line of fire. A staff blast then whizzes past her head and Sam ducks back behind the old, crumbling stone wall. Taking a deep breath, she prepares to return fire to buy her teammates a little breathing space but as she spins around, everything appears to slow down and speed up at once.

She hears the snap of a twig to her left, like a bullet that's been fired through the silence and it's followed by the unmistakable crackle and charge of a staff weapon powering up. Sam also hears the colonel's yell coming from her right, but it comes just a second too late.

Pain consumes her. A searing heat encompassing her entire body and she feels paralyzes as everything shifts around her. She's hot and sore and suddenly unable to breathe.

She not sure how long passes before she hears someone crying out and then she realizes it's _her_ and she tries to stamp down on her confusion and panic and fear so as not to draw any more attention to herself than she already has. She closes her eyes, hoping to pass out so the pain will end.

When her head lolls to the side, she doesn't see the way the colonel's anger suddenly surges and he executes one, two, three Jaffa with a single shot in quick succession and she doesn't hear how he orders Teal'c to cover him as he runs across the clearing to be by her side.

There's tears escaping and leaving a trail down her face, washing away the dirt and grime from the battle, but she doesn't care. Even though she knows it's useless, she still tries to block out the pain, tries to ignore the fear that's now filling her veins because she's scared. She's picked up her fair share of injuries over the years but this – this feels different.

Because aside from the pain, she can't feel _anything._

"Sam? _Sam!_ Can you hear me?"

She can hear him but she isn't sure if she answers because she doesn't think she can. Her body and mind don't seem to be cooperating with what she wants to do.

"C'mon, Carter."

She feels a warmth on the side of her face and forces her eyes open. Nothing is quite in focus but she can just about make out her commanding officer staring down at her in concern, his hand cradling her cheek. Her eyes drift closed again and it's only when the weight of his touch increases, that stops her from giving in to the darkness.

 _"Major,"_ he barks and her eyes snap open to meet his, but she isn't able to decipher anything else he says. His gaze shifts then, and she swears he pales. "Hold on just a little longer for me," he says, his thumb grazing her cheek before he disappears out of her line of sight.

So, she closes her eyes again and tries to focus on something, anything, to keep her grounded and stop the panic from consuming her.

But there's nothing. There are no battle sounds, no smells. But she thinks her pain is starting to lessen, so maybe if she tries to move –

The sudden, soft tap of fingers against her cheek has her prising her eyes open and staring at her commanding officer. Her vision swims as he brushes a strand of hair away from her eyes but she catches sigh of his hand, covered in blood, and she knows something is very, _very_ wrong.

"Easy, Carter," he murmurs. "Teal'c's given you the good stuff, but I need you to do me a favor before we can get out of here."

It takes her longer than usual to process the words and before she responds, he's nodding, as if he's heard her thoughts.

"I need you to try and wiggle your toes."

She frowns at his request and wonders just when he removed her boots because why else would he be looking at her feet? That, and when he removed her boots, because she didn't feel a thing.

Realization hits her. _Hard._

"Sam," he says, waving his fingers in front of her face and she tries to focus. "Wiggle your damn toes."

She tries but she can't feel anything and when the colonel's expression hardens, just infinitesimally, she knows she's been unsuccessful in her attempts. Panic swells and blooms and she can't fight the tears anymore.

"It's alright, Carter," he soothes, placing a hand on her shoulder, but the tension ripples off him in waves. "We're gonna get you home."

When she opens her mouth to try and answer, he abruptly shakes his head.

"You need to rest," he says quietly, "but don't fall asleep on me, OK?"

"I'm scared," she finally manages to whisper as she swallows another round of tears.

"Yeah," she hears him whisper, "me too."


	221. Pack Up Your Troubles

**Author's Note: Written for 'Particularly Preposterous Packaging Day' (7 August). Set post-series.**

 **Also, to Camel. Thank you for the lovely feedback. I'm so glad you're following the series and it's adding to your enjoyment of the show and Sam/Jack. Thank you! Thank you to every single one of you who is continuing to follow this project. It's really encouraging and never fails to make me smile.**

* * *

Jack's never been one for possessions. A lifetime devoted to black ops and the Air Force has a funny way of doing that to a person. But even before those days, when he was a rebellious teenager, he didn't care for material things either, whether it was clothes or books or gadgets. It's part of the reason why he happily packed just a duffle and went traveling for a few weeks before he joined the Academy. The bare essentials have always been fine and ensured he got by.

He has managed to keep a few items over the years that he does treasure however – such as an old hand-sewn quilt his grandmother had made and used, or Charlie's first baseball glove, or his wedding ring from Sam – but aside from that, he's always viewed everything else as _stuff_. He's no real emotional attachment.

As he lifts a cardboard box onto the kitchen counter he briefly entertains the idea as to what he'd be like if he was a "possession kind of person" but then he shrugs to himself. In the grand scheme of things, it doesn't really matter because even if he did hoard items, his various deployments over the years, many of which the orders have been issued at very little notice, would have ensured he didn't have the luxury of packing up his life. Just owning what is absolutely necessary, he tells himself.

Pulling back the parcel tape his mind jumps to more recent years. By the time he was appointed Head of Homeworld Security, for example, and moved to Washington he'd had even fewer personal items on him. Mostly, because he'd chosen to leave most of his belongings in Colorado Springs. He knows they're safe there, still in his house. The only difference is that Sam is now living there too.

He pauses in his task and smiles. The thought of his home now being _their_ home always fills him with a warmth and sense of contentment, never ceasing to surprise him. His thoughts drift to his wife. He wouldn't necessarily say Sam was a possession-driven kind of person either. At least, he never used to think that, but over the years more and more of her items have made their way into his house – even before they got together. He doesn't mind in the slightest though but he does find himself wondering where everything comes from because when she isn't off-world, she is with him and he knows with absolute certainty, that when they are together, the last thing they are doing is shopping.

With another shrug, he opens the cardboard box in front of him and tells himself that it doesn't really matter in the grand scheme of things. Because now he is heading home – back to Colorado Springs and finally retiring.

Last weekend, Sam had flown out to Washington to help him pack up his apartment. They didn't achieve as much as they'd planned (it had been five weeks since they last saw each other, after all), but they'd made a start and he'd insisted that he could be trusted to complete the task during the week and organize to have the boxes shipped.

However, he now has just two days before he leaves D.C. for good – and he can no longer find any of his belongings.

So, when he doesn't see anything of use in the box he's just opened, he pushes it to one side, lifts another onto the workspace and opens it too. In total, he opens five different boxes before he ends up staring in confusing at what he's now faced with.

Samantha Carter; his wife, astrophysicist extraordinaire, and one of the best officers he's ever served with, is one of the most organized, meticulous people he knows.

But this is a _mess._

There are plates mixed in with towels; his boxer shorts are in a box with his fishing gear; and his shaving gel is in another box with some of his National Geographic's.

He runs a hand over his face and unable to deal with the chaos, he quickly pulls his cell phone from his pocket. She answers on the third ring.

 _"Hi."_

"Hey, Carter. Got a question for you."

There's a brief pause before he hears her sigh. _"Yes?"_

"What system did you use when you decided to pack up my belongings?"

 _"Um –"_

"My stuff is everywhere."

 _"Does it really matter?"_ _  
_  
"Wh – _what?_ Yes, it matters," he replies curtly, his frown deepening as he shoves another box aside. "I can't find any of my things!"

 _"I only packed what you told me to pack."_ _  
_  
"This isn't my fault. I said –"

 _"You said,"_ Sam interrupts, and he swears he hears the amusement in her voice, which only serves to dampen his mood further, _"and I quote, "Packing sucks"."_ _  
_  
"Well, it does."

A half-hearted murmur of agreement travels over the line. _"So, you left the organizing to me. I did say to store everything you would need this week in your study."_ _  
_  
"No, you didn't."

 _"Yes, I did."_ _  
_  
"No–" He pauses in his argument and wonders if she did make such a suggestion because it _is_ a clever suggestion and _definitely_ sounds like something she would have said. "I don't remember that," he opts for instead.

 _"Well, you probably wouldn't."_

"What's that supposed to mean?"

 _"You were a little... distracted, at the time."_

"I don't –" Suddenly, his mind is full of images from the weekend and he distinctly remembers telling Sam "packing sucks" as he wrapped his arms around her waist from behind, made a crude joke about "sucking" and then – "Oh."

 _"Yes?"_

But he refuses to admit that his wife is right – again. " _Carter!_ Where the hell is all of my stuff?"

 _"If it isn't lying around, it is probably safe to say it's already been packed."  
_  
"How do I know which one to open?"

 _"Jack,"_ she says and he resists the urge to roll his eyes, _"if it's in a box, you don't need it, and you're going to unpack them all when you get home. It's fine."_

"What if I do need this item?"

 _"Then you should have paid more attention when I was putting things away."  
_  
"Yeah, about that," he grumbles. "My clothes are currently spread across three boxes and I'm pretty sure they'd fit into one."

 _"Are you re-opening all of the boxes?"_

"Yes."

 _"Why?"_

"I told you. I need something."

 _"What could you possibly need that's so important?"_ she laughs, _"I know for a fact that I didn't touch any of your work."  
_  
He glances at his watch and realizes that his driver is due to arrive at any moment. Running out of time, he decides just to come clean.

"If you must know, I was looking for my yo-yo."

 _"Your yo–"  
_  
There's a beat of silence that passes and he wonders if Sam is now thinking of ways to divorce him over his childishness.

 _"Have you even stepped inside your study since I left?"  
_  
"No," he hesitates. "Why?"

When she speaks, her voice is soft and warm and he can hear her smiling. _"Go, look."_

He spins on his heel and makes his way towards the room in question and when he flings open the door he finds his red yo-yo sitting exactly where Sam said it would be. With a grin, he scoops it up and shoves it in his pocket. It's only then, he notices, that it was sitting alongside his GameBoy and a comic book.

"Sam –"

 _"I knew you'd get bored,"_ she answers simply.

He's just about to make a quip about just how well she knows him when the sound of a car horn signals the arrival of his driver and he sighs.

"I gotta go."

 _"I know,"_ she says knowingly, _"enjoy your meetings."_

"Ha _ha,_ " he responds.

He's halfway to the car before he disconnects the call and it's only when he pulls the yo-yo from his pocket and throws it into his briefcase that he smiles. He's a feeling that his meetings are going to go just fine now that he has a distraction to get him through.

Sometimes he really, _really_ loves his wife.


	222. Bowled Over

**Author's Note: Written for 'Bowling Day' (8 August). Alternate reality. The only word I can use to describe this update is, random. That, and it's full of puns and bad jokes. Really, _really_ bad jokes.**

* * *

Most of the local businesses are used to Air Force officers coming and going around town, but as Jack kills the engine on his truck and glances around the parking lot, he can't help but chuckle. Virtually every car he sees belongs to someone from the SGC, and he realizes – not for the first time – that when the base personnel decide to descend on one of the nearby proprietors for some base-wide team bonding, whether it's O'Malleys or the bowling alley, they do tend to take over.

Tonight, it's the latter that's playing host as the Stargate Command Bowling League kicks off for another season and Jack grins as he lifts his bag from the passenger seat and jumps out of the truck.

The tournament is a bit of fun – even if it does turn competitive, but it's a few hours every week where he and his colleagues can forget about the day job for a while and relax. It's a reminder that it isn't just about work, or focusing on the bad missions that happen. It's a good way of forming bonds with your team, and other team members, that doesn't involve trying to outrun the Goa'uld on some remote planet or engaging an enemy over a firefight. It's about friendship and enjoying themselves – and if some money happens to change hands and there's good food and beer, that's a bonus in Jack's opinion.

He shifts his hold on the bowling bag and grins. Despite the changes to his team this year, he's pretty confident SG-1 are going to win this opening round. There's just himself, Daniel and Teal'c now – the _Pin Bowl Wizards_. Kawalsky, captain of _The Gutter Gang_ , was their fourth team member until two weeks ago when he landed himself a promotion and subsequently received his own SG team, SG-6, and bowling team to boot. Then, there's Ferretti and the rest of SG-2 making up _Strike Force_ ; Makepeace is the captain of the _Ballbarians_ and joined by his SG-3 teammates; while Major James Howe from SG-4 leads _Lane Violators_ , Major Castleman leads SG-5 and _The Incredibowl Hulks_ ; with Major Long taking the helm of SG-7's _Right Up Our Alley_. Janet Frasier, Walter Harriman, Sergeant Siler and General Hammond make up the final team – _The Pin Pushers_.

But even though his team are a man down, Jack isn't fazed. He's feeling lucky this evening and reckons SG-1 can do just fine with three bowlers.

Walking into the building, the smells of greasy food and booze reaches his nose and casts a quick glance to see most of the teams already here and getting a head-start on dinner. He makes his way through the noise and the crowd before he joins Daniel and Teal'c in one of the booths.

"Evening campers," he nods, throwing his bag onto the floor and unzipping it to retrieve his bowling shoes. "Glad you could make it, Doc," he adds a moment later, when he sees Janet sitting alone on the opposite bench.

"Wouldn't miss it, sir," she smiles back.

"Can't help but notice you're looking a little outnumbered over there."

"Very funny, colonel."

He chuckles softly to himself and concentrates on changing his shoes. "Where are your teammates anyway?"

"General Hammond is on his way, as is Walter. He called just before they left the base."

"What about Siler?"

"You didn't hear, sir?"

At Janet's hesitation, he glances up and frowns. "No – I haven't been to the base today."

"Oh."

"What happened?"

A snicker to Jack's left has him turning to face Daniel who exchanges an amused look with the doctor.

"Siler's broken three toes on his left foot."

Jack tries, but fails, to hide his amusement. They've only been working for the Stargate Program for a year but already the sergeant has garnered a reputation for being accident-prone. "What'd he do this time?"

"He came here last night to practice," Janet sighs, "and managed to drop a bowling ball on his foot."

"Well, you know what they say," Jack draws out smugly as he stands and flexes his own feet, "split happens."

Daniel groans at his attempt at a joke, while the doc just rolls her eyes.

"So, you're also a man down this evening," he adds.

"Not exactly, sir."

His gaze snaps to Janet only to discover she's now the one wearing a smug expression. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"General Hammond said he had it covered," she shrugs.

Jack studies her for another few seconds before he looks away. He can't think of who the general would bring along as a replacement for Siler. Due to the league, it's only a skeleton staff on duty this evening, so there isn't anyone else they can pull away to join them. He's just about to ask if his teammates know anything else about the situation when Hammond appears with Walter in tow.

"Gentlemen. Janet," he greets warmly. A chorus of 'sirs' greet him as he moves to the booth opposite SG-1. "Sorry I'm late," Hammond continues as he starts to change his shoes, "my meeting with Doctor Carter ran late."

"Doctor Carter?"

"Sam Carter," George nods and Jack vaguely remembers the name cropping up in conversation a few days ago. "The new head of the science department," he adds. "We were just going over the paperwork and transfer papers. Their official starting date is tomorrow."

"Great," Jack mutters. Another scientist. He doesn't have a lot of time for those – Daniel being the obvious exception – but as he's the second-in-command to George, he has no choice but to be aware of every member of staff at the SGC. He bites back a sigh at the thought of having to listen to technobabble in the morning when he drops by the science labs to say hello and warn them not to get themselves or anybody else killed because of their scientific curiosity.

"So, where is Doctor Carter?"

"Just arriving."

Jack frowns at Daniel's question as he tries to piece together the parts of the conversation he's obviously missed. "What?"

Hammond gives him a long-suffering smile. "I said Sam will be joining us this evening. I thought it would be a good way to make the introductions – and also act as a replacement for Siler."

"I think that's cheating, sir."

"I run the base, Jack," George chuckles. "I think that makes me King Pin."

"Is that a joke, sir?"

"Not a very good one."

"Hmm," he smirks. "I think you could say it was gutterly ridiculous, sir."

"Oh, spare me," Daniel finally moans, reaching for a beer. Knowing his crappy jokes and puns annoy the life out of the archaeologist, Jack tries to think of a few more he can use against his friend over the course of the evening when movement out of the corner of his eye catches his attention.

"General Hammond?"

Jack looks up and freezes. He sees Hammond turn towards the young woman that's now joined them and he can't think of anything except how beautiful she looks. She's tall and athletic, her jeans and black leather jacket clinging to her in all the right places; her long, blonde hair falling loosely around her shoulders; her eyes, bright blue and sparkling as she talks to the general.

He tries to tear his gaze away but then she looks straight at him and he thinks it's a cliché but she takes his breath away.

"Jack."

He glances at Hammond. "Sir?"

"This is Sam Carter and the newest member of the _The Pin Pushers_ ," and Jack notices how George says it just loud enough for those within earshot to know that she's the newest member of their odd little family under Cheyenne Mountain and a host of cheers and raised beer bottles meets the introduction.

"You're Doctor Carter?"

She smiles at his question but reaches out to shake his hand. "You can call me Samantha. Or Sam."

"I'm Jack. O'Neill. Colonel O'Neill," he winces at his inability to suddenly string a sentence together. "Nice to meet you."

"Likewise," she nods, then turns her attention to the rest of his team.

He continues to observe her while Daniel makes the rest of the introductions and when he looks away, he tries to ignore the smile his commanding officer is now giving him. He clears his throat quickly.

"So, Samantha," he says, deciding he likes the way her name sounds on his lips. "You any good at bowling?"

* * *

It turns out Sam Carter is one hell of a good bowler. The teams are still only warming up, but he can just tell. There's an elegance and a grace in her stance that's also confident and sure. And he knows he's screwed – in possibly more ways than one because he cannot take his eyes off her.

He tries to focus but his first few attempts don't go as well as he hopes when he clips six of the pins on his first shot, then manages to miss the other four completely on his second go. Before he realizes, the tournament begins, so he tells himself it'll all be fine.

Sam goes first for Hammond's team and secures herself a spare, while Jack messes up his go, managing to knock eight of the pins down, leaving one standing on either side of the lane. His second ball hits the gutter and he's met with a host of jeers and disparaging comments but shrugs them off.

"I'm just letting you get a head start," he tells Sam, before he grabs a beer and tries to act casual.

When it's the doctor's turn to bowl again, she studies the selection of bowling balls, finally makes her choice and steps forward. As she positions herself, Jack swears he can see her lips moving and if he didn't know any better, he'd swear she was reciting some kind of scientific equation. A loud cheer suddenly cuts through his thoughts and his attention shifts to discover Sam now has a strike to her name.

She offers him a smirk before she brushes by him. "It's not my first game," she shrugs.

Suddenly, he realizes he's been taken for a ride – and not just by Carter, but General Hammond too, and from then on, _it's on._

Every time he steps up to bowl, he feels her eyes on him, analyzing his every move as if he's some kind of science experiment. Which, he decides, wouldn't be a bad thing in Carter's case. Unfortunately, the thought of Sam studying him up close and personal distracts him and he, again, splits the pins down the middle. He swears under his breath and when he returns to his seat, Teal'c leans over and in his not-so-subtle way tells him to concentrate. The blush on his face deepens when he hears a giggle coming from the booth opposite.

He's stopped from commenting, however, when Kawalsky drops down onto the bench beside him.

"You're well on the way to becoming an honorary member of _The Gutter Gang_ this evening, Jack."

"Ha _ha._ "

Shaking his head at his friend's laughter, Jack lets his attention wander back to Sam. It's almost her turn again to bowl and just like she watched him, he finds himself following her every move too. Only instead of unnerving her, it seems to make her even more confident and she lands her third strike of the evening. A low whistle escapes Kawalsky before he nudges Jack with his elbow.

"I think that's what you call striking out, my friend."

"Shut up, Charlie."

* * *

The bowling league is well underway but the evening hasn't exactly been uneventful. Kawalsky is living up to his nickname of "gutter guard" as he's yet to hit the pins on both throws, while Walter's been benched for his bowling ball landing in SG-1's lane just as Daniel was about to throw. Then there's Teal'c, who almost put a hole in the back wall because he threw his bowling ball with that much force it cracked two of the pins and sent the rest flying into the neighboring lanes. Jack finds the antics amusing, and it helps take the sting off his own below-par performance but there is one thing he can count on: Samantha Carter is officially kicking everyone's ass at bowling and helping _The Pin Pushers_ make their way towards winning this week's competition.

Not that Jack really minds; SG-1 is currently sitting in second place and as long as he beats the Marines, he's happy.

But the more the evening goes on, the more he finds himself gravitating towards the doctor and away from the game. There's just something about her that's pulling him in and he can't – and doesn't want to – escape. The discovery spooks him because he's never felt that way about a woman before and he decides he needs to put a little space between the two of them. Under the pretense of ordering another round of drinks, he makes his way over to the bar. He's there for less than a minute before he has company.

"Having a good night, son?"

He turns to find George by his side and he nods. "Yes, sir."

"You made a quick getaway there," he continues with ease. "I thought the good doctor might be getting the better of you."

Jack snorts but doesn't deny his statement.

"I'm just… bowling with the punches, General. No pin intended," he shrugs before he takes a long pull of beer.

A hearty chuckle escapes his commanding officer before he clasps a hand on his shoulder. "You'll like her once you get to know her."

"Oh, I adore her already, George," he quips, lifting the rest of the drinks but then he pauses in his efforts to take them back to their teams and finds himself asking, "What's the plan for tomorrow, with regards to Carter?"

"Her introductory briefing is scheduled for zero-eight-hundred. I'd like you to be there, Jack."

He swings around to look at the older man and frowns in confusion. "Me, sir? Why?"

"As Sam will be focusing on R&D, I thought you could provide the doctor with a better insight into some of the technology your team has already encountered."

The suggestion makes sense and he nods in agreement. "Shall I let Daniel and Teal'c know?"

"No," Hammond replies, then smiles. "There'll be plenty of time for them to talk tomorrow – after you've given Sam a tour of the base."

"You – you want me to show her around?"

"Like I said, Jack," and the colonel tries to ignore the way Hammond's smile changes, "you really will like her once you get to know her."

Then, he's left standing alone wondering what on earth's just happened.

* * *

In the end, _The Pin Pushers_ top the table with the first win of the tournament and after the begrudging congratulatory comments, the crowd finally disperses, leaving just SG-1, General Hammond and Sam behind.

"I should go too," she finally says, politely pulling away from a conversation with Daniel. "I don't want to be late for my first day."

She receives a nod from Hammond who bids her a good evening and before Jack has a chance to think it over, he grabs his bowling bag.

"I'll walk you out," he offers, resolutely refusing to meet the eyes of his teammates.

The cool, night air washes over him as he follows Sam outside and it helps clear his head as he tries to think of something safe to say.

"So, where'd you learn to bowl like that?"

She steals a glance at him and smiles. "I'm a military brat. I needed a hobby to keep me sane as we moved from state to state."

He smirks at her honesty, but can't help but wonder who her relative is – and if he knows them. Or whether George knows them. When Sam's pace starts to slow, Jack realizes they've arrived at her car, a little sports number, and he whistles appreciatively.

"Well, bowl me over," he murmurs, secretly thrilled when Sam doesn't roll her eyes at his comment, but instead ducks her chin to try and hide her smile. So, he just can't help himself. "Nice ride."

"Thank you," she beams proudly. "Although I'm still waiting on my bike to be shipped over, so this has to do for now."

His eyebrows rise impressively and he takes a step closer. "Your bike?"

"A 1940s Indian," she nods.

"You've been holding out on me, doc," he mumbles, his voice low and husky. "Is there anything else about you I should know?"

"Nothing that can't wait until our briefing tomorrow, colonel."

"It's Jack," he reminds her.

"And it's Sam."

He holds her gaze for a second longer, then clears his throat. "Well, Sam, I – ah – guess I'll see you tomorrow."

"Bright and early," she confirms.

"You know your way home from here OK?"

"Yes, col– yeah," she amends when he raises a brow and Jack can't help but focus on her deepening blush. "I'm staying at the base tonight. I'm good."

"Yes, you are."

They fall into a comfortable silence but he knows he really needs to, and should, let her go but he can't seem to walk away – and the doc doesn't appear to be in any rush to leave either.

"Listen," he says, feeling slightly awkward, "I was wondering –"

The sound of people talking and laughter fills the air and he glances over his shoulder to see Daniel, Teal'c and Hammond making their way towards their respective vehicles. He turns back to Sam to find her staring at him expectantly.

"If I was to try and entice you to join my team next week instead of Hammond's, what'd be the damage?" he asks instead of the original question he'd planned.

"You want me to join your team?" She cants her head when he nods in confirmation. "Why?"

"I don't know," he shrugs, running a hand along the back of his neck, "I just thought... maybe we could be pin pals."

There's a beat of silence that passes before Sam's laughter fills the air.

"That's a really, _really_ bad joke."

"And yet, you still laughed," he grins, happy that the tension he was feeling moments ago has vanished.

"Do you always use those lines on women?"

"Just the ones I like," he says, taking a step closer.

She shakes her head in amusement then turns to unlock her car. "Unbowlieveable," she murmurs.

He's momentarily stunned by the pun but then she turns her head, flashes him this amazing smile and he decides there and then that he's absolutely in love with her.

He watches her slide effortlessly into the driver's seat before he leans a hand on the door.

"I'm serious," he says. "I want you. On my team," he adds quickly, hoping she doesn't think he's just a creepy old man. "I think we'd be good together."

Patiently, he waits as Sam averts her gaze slightly but when she pulls her bottom lip between her teeth, Jack wants nothing more than to kiss her.

"I'll think about it," she finally answers, "on one condition."

"What's that?"

"You've got to come up with a new team name."

"How about _Ball-istics_?" When Sam pulls a face, he pretends to be affronted. " _The Bowling Stones_? _She came, she bowled, she conquered_?"

Another round of laughter escapes her. "You have until tomorrow morning," she says knowingly, before she closes the door.

When the engine roars to life, Jack taps the roof of her car and takes a step back, watching her go until she's out of sight. Turning on his heel, he finds himself whistling as he makes his way to his truck. He'll think of a new team name by the time they've their briefing in the morning, but for now he's more than happy to go with, _Strike It Lucky_.


	223. Storyteller

**Author's Note: Written for 'Book Lovers Day' (9 August).**

* * *

"The more that you read, the more things you will know," she murmurs to herself as she studies the cover of the book in her hand. "The more that you learn, the more places you'll go," she adds with a sigh, reverently placing it on the shelf and taking a step back.

As she studies the dozen or so works stacked together she pretends not to notice how she's arranged them in alphabetical order, nor does she think about the ghost of a whisper in her ear; the teasing voice that used to say, _"Guess you gotta go reorganize your collection now"_ , anytime she came home with a new book.

She's always been a reader. Her parents used to joke and say she could read before she could walk and there are times when she thinks they were right. There's just something about reading that she loves. It's the thrill of learning something new; the amusement over a ridiculous theory some so-called expert has published and claimed to be accurate; the tranquillity of falling into a completely different fictional world with its own unique characters…

A wave of nostalgia washes over her and she remembers one of the first books her parents ever read to her – one about a caterpillar with an insatiable appetite. Then, there are memories of another book about a naughty cat that wears a large hat and causes chaos and leaves mayhem in his wake. However, it's the story of the pig and his friendship with a spider named Charlotte that's her favorite from when she was a child.

As she grew older her tastes in reading changed but her love for books stayed the same. She remembers adventure novels, fantasy and other worldly texts, crappy romance novels and dystopian storytelling. There's the intellectual magazines, scholarly journals, language books she's also studied. She's read a lot over the years and sometimes she found herself asking questions about the texts or the theories behind a book, but while her dad never dismissed or dissuaded her ideas he would always tell her not to believe everything she read. _"Sometimes the truth is weirder than fiction,"_ he'd add, right before he gave her an unintelligible smile.

 _If only she knew then what she knows now._

She misses those moments.

She misses having access to the SGC and the advantage it gave her; the unique position to gather and build a collection of books like none other. With a lot of the materials technically classified, they had to stay on the base so it was completely different to her collection at home, but just as meaningful.

And for such a long time, it was fine.

 _They had been safe._

She had a carving on a stone tablet that Daniel presented to her as a birthday present one year which told the story of the Abydonians and more than once she made him share its secrets. When Teal'c had permanently returned to Chulak, he had proudly donated his collection of thriller and detective novels to her and she'd cherished those, delving into the series at times when the things around her became too much. Her pile of National Geographics were always stacked at the far end of the shelf, unmistakable with their yellow cover, and always within easy reach for when something was needed to keep boredom at bay. Beside them, lay a science journal where, between the covers, it had been highlighted and sentences scored out where the science was wrong, the theories circled with red pen and question marks decorated the column space.

But it wasn't always about the words. Her favorite book barely had any words; just images. Images telling the story of her parents; the love her mom and dad had for each other and how, despite the tragedies they faced in their lives and the sacrifices they had to make, they made it through it all and were together, _always._

She remembers the last time she held the photo album in her hands. She was hiding in the corner of one of the science labs and waiting for the end to come. The sound of explosions and firefights echoing through the corridors of the SGC; the world around her collapsing and burning. It was the day she left Earth behind and she wanted to bring the book with her but couldn't. As she was hauled to her feet, the order was to leave it behind with her parents.

 _It would be safe, they promised._

Now, the only piece she owns is the photograph in her hands. It looks more like a remnant of scrap paper, the edges torn and scorched from where she managed to save it from the flames, when it fell free from the album.

It's the only happy image that remains from her previous life; the people she knew; the ones she loved.

The Alpha Site is home now but it feels distant, alone. _Wrong._

She closes her eyes briefly against the tears that threaten to fall. She needs a book; something she can read and lose herself in so powerfully that she forgets about everything else. She casts a glance over the sparsely-filled shelf but can't bring herself to lift any of them down. It's still too raw, too fresh, the memories too vivid.

That's the thing with books though; even though it hurts, they help keep those memories and legacies alive. How they can tell the story of those who can no longer share their own.

She looks around her quarters and finds paper and a pen in one of the desk drawers, so she takes a seat. Setting the photograph down, her fingers gently trace the outline of the two figures in the image before she picks up the pen with a shaky hand and starts to write.

 _My name is Grace O'Neill, daughter of General Jack O'Neill and Colonel Samantha Carter…_

If she can't find a book to read, she'll write her own.

* * *

 **This… well, I don't quite know what this is, to be honest. AU? Apocafic? Complete garbage?**

 **Feel free to let me know!**


	224. Lazy Like A Sunday Morning

**Author's Note: Written for 'Lazy Day' (10 August). Post-series, established relationship.**

* * *

Jack checked his watch once more and frowned. He knew Sam was tired; she'd told him as much last night but it was now after eleven on a Sunday morning. Even though it was her day off, he had never known her to sleep in this late.

Casting a quick glance over his shoulder to make sure Grace was still at the kitchen table, happily coloring in a book and staying out of mischief, he headed down the hall towards the main bedroom. He cracked the door ajar to find the drapes still closed and his wife fast asleep, her back to him.

He carefully stepped inside and – after making sure she was still alive – gently reached out and nudged her shoulder.

"Carter?"

When she didn't answer, he shook her shoulder a little harder and spoke a little louder. _"Sam."_

It took a few seconds before a half-hearted 'Mm?' could be heard before a pair of sleepy blue eyes prised open and stared at him in confusion. "Jack?"

"Yeah," he said, his frown deepening. "You OK?"

She closed her eyes again but nodded. "I'm fine."

"Are you sure… because it's after eleven."

"What?"

"Yup," he said, making a grand show of re-checking his watch. "I'm actually impressed. This must be some kind of record."

"Ha ha."

"You sure you're feeling OK?"

His concern must have leaked into his voice because Sam then slowly shifted and looked up at him. "I'm fine," she repeated, stifling a yawn. "Just a little tired."

He said nothing, but continued to study her for a while longer. "You know," he started casually, "the last time you were this exhausted, we ended up taking you to see Carolyn and it turned out –"

"I am _not_ pregnant."

Jack held up his hands in a mock defensive gesture, but he couldn't fully hide his amusement at Sam's tone. It wasn't that they were necessarily trying for a second child, but he wouldn't mind if they had another. Sam, though, considering she had a tough pregnancy with Grace, was adamant that they would not be adding to their family.

"I'll get up now."

He glanced down at his wife as her voice broke through his thoughts and he moved his hand to let it rest on her hip. "Nah," he said, leaning over and dropping a kiss to her lips, "you obviously need the rest – and we agreed that today would be a lazy day."

"We also said we would take Grace to the park."

"Yes," he nodded, then offered a half-shrug, "but we never told her that."

"I know," Sam argued, "but who knows when my next day off will be. I want us all to do something together while we can."

"OK," he quietly acquiesced, giving her hip a light squeeze as she pulled herself into a sitting position, "but we can take her later. We still have the whole day."

When Sam scrunched her nose up at his words, he fought back a sigh but there was no point arguing with her; she would feel guilty for sleeping in so late and nothing he could say or do would change her mind. Sometimes, he'd learned, it was best to just let his wife work it out of her system in her own time. Instead, he squeezed her hip once more before he got to his feet.

"Breakfast?"

"Coffee," she nodded, "please. I'll just jump in the shower first."

He left her to freshen up and went back to the kitchen to check on Grace and make the coffee but it was another thirty minutes before Sam finally joined them.

"At last," he rumbled affectionately as he handed her a mug, "mornin' sleepyhead."

She smiled and took a sip of coffee before she turned her full attention to their daughter. Jack watched fondly as Grace informed Sam of her morning so far – including the fact that she'd been allowed to eat Froot Loops – but after he gave an apologetic shrug for his supposedly poor taste in breakfast cereals, he let his gaze linger. He couldn't put his finger on what was wrong, but Sam just didn't seem like her usual self. She looked pale and tired, but he tried to convince himself that it was just down to work. Carter had been the leader of the SGC for almost a year now, and while he knew there was no-one better for the job, it hadn't been an easy twelve months and it was also unlike any of her previous command positions. Even he had struggled with the role when he'd been put in charge – and he'd had the advantage of being Hammond's second-in-command for the seven years previous.

An excited squeal suddenly interrupted Jack's thoughts and he looked over just in time to see Grace jump down from her seat and run out of the kitchen.

He frowned in confusion "What's the emergency?"

"I asked her if she wanted to go to the park," Sam chuckled as she finished her coffee and placed the cup in the dishwasher.

* * *

In the end, they managed to spend around two hours at the park. With Grace initially undecided as to whether to go on the swings or the slide first, she'd managed to make her way around every structure in the playpark twice before the three of them decided to go for an ice cream – only for Grace to fall asleep in Jack's arms as they made their way back to his truck. Deciding not to wake her, Jack made a detour to the store on the drive home instead, simply shrugging and saying, "you can't have a lazy evening without some ice cream."

Stepping into their house, he carried Grace down the hallway and into her bedroom while Sam closed the door behind them. Tucking her in, Jack pressed a kiss to her forehead before pulling the door to her room shut. He found his wife moments later, stifling a yawn, as she placed the ice cream in the freezer. Snagging her hand as she passed, he pulled her close and wrapped his arms loosely around her waist, his hands resting on the small of her back.

"Still tired?" he murmured.

She nodded, then kissed him briefly. "I'm fine."

He didn't doubt her but he couldn't shake the feeling that had settled in the pit of his stomach. He let his fingers draw random patterns against her back and decided to risk his next question.

"Do I need to call the doc?"

Sam rested her forehead against his chest before she shook her head. A few seconds later, she pushed away from him, muttering under her breath as she left the kitchen. He couldn't fully make out what she'd called him, but he had heard enough to give him a fair idea and he grinned.

Deciding to give her a few minutes in peace, he tidied the last few dishes away from breakfast. He then checked his watch and listened but couldn't hear any noise coming from elsewhere in the house. He waited for another couple of minutes but when there was still no sign of Sam, made his way towards their bedroom and found her sitting on the edge of the bed, holding a small white stick in her hands.

When he stepped inside, her gaze locked with his, and he froze. Sam's eyes were wide and she had a slightly panicked expression on her face. He knew immediately what was coming next but he still found himself asking.

"Uh, Carter?"

Her gaze returned to her hands and her whisper was deafening in the silence. "I'm pregnant."

A part of him wanted to pull her into his arms and kiss her senseless, especially when he saw her lips curl into a small smile, but instead he sat beside her and put an arm around her shoulders.

"You OK?"

She nodded, her smile widening. "Just… surprised," she admitted a moment later and Jack chuckled as he placed a kiss against the side of her head. "I'll need to let Carolyn –"

"We can worry about that tomorrow," he interrupted gently. "No work today, remember?"

"This isn't exactly how I imagined our lazy day would go."

"I never would have guessed."

Laughter escaped Sam as she rested her head against his shoulder.

"There'll be other lazy days," he shrugged. He tried to sound nonchalant, but he couldn't quite hide his excitement, nor amusement, any longer, when he added, "just not for another eighteen years or so."


	225. Footprints In The Sand

**Author's Note: Written for 'Play In The Sand Day' (11 August).**

 **Set in season 3 – around a month after the events of 'Shades of Grey', with references to 'Jolinar's Memories/The Devil You Know', 'Foothold', 'Pretense' and 'A Hundred Days'.**

* * *

Sam turns her face towards the sun and takes a deep breath. The air is hot and dry, the sand rough and itchy against her skin as a breeze swirls, carrying the fine grains high into the air and onwards onto a new journey.

The desert planets don't tend to bother her. Sure, those types of missions are challenging, particularly when you have the added factors of the unrelenting heat and exposure to the elements, but there is something about the sand and water and beaches that she loves. It brings her a sense of tranquillity that helps keep her grounded.

The past few months haven't been easy for SG-1. They had barely managed to rescue her father and escape from Netu when less than two weeks later the SGC had been thrown into a foothold situation. Once that had been resolved and new security measures put in place, they received a message from the Tollan to say Skaara had been found and was to undergo Triad. In the end, the process had resulted in the young man's freedom from the Goa'uld. The team were due to visit Abydos shortly after Skaara's return home – to make sure everything was okay and he was settling in with his family again – but before that happened, SG-1 was instructed to go to Edora. That mission quickly spiralled out of control and resulted in Jack getting stuck off-world for over three months. Then, just when Sam thought things were going back to normal, her commanding officer decided to steal some alien technology and turn his back on the rest of his team. The situation and the colonel's behaviour didn't sit right with her at the time, so she was more than a little relieved when it turned out to be an undercover op, but now that they are all back together, the dynamic has changed and it doesn't sit right with her either.

With a sigh, she opens her eyes, slowly turns around and heads back to the settlement they've been offered for the duration of their stay. The heat from the sun warms her skin and she feels herself relax as she slips off the sandals presented to her by the Abydonians and walks barefoot through the sand. The lack of attire isn't strictly appropriate off-world but the point of this mission – in General Hammond's own words – is to give the team "a break". She's been a part of the Stargate Program too long now though and knows the General too well to not pick up on what their commander didn't say. Their last mission prior to this, whilst uneventful, was tense and highlighted a few of the cracks that remain within the team. This standard follow-up mission with Skaara is also to give SG-1 a chance to mend the bridges some of them have managed to burn amongst themselves.

Sam reaches the settlement quicker than she expects, so she ducks behind one of the tents and observes her commanding officer as he runs across the sand half-heartedly trying to tackle the Abydonian kids as they run circles around him, playing their own version of soccer.

The sounds of laughter and squeals and cheering fills the desert air and she finds herself smiling at their enthusiasm. She also hears a warm, genuine laugh from the colonel and she lets her gaze linger. She rarely has the opportunity to just stand back and study him, especially in such an unguarded moment as this.

If she thinks about it long enough, she's probably spent _too_ much time observing her CO over these past three years but she tells herself that a lot of those times were in the field; when they were trying to get out of dangerous situations and she decides that the study was essential – reading his body language, his tactics, knowing exactly what he was planning to do. She's _almost_ able to convince herself that is the case – why she watches him – but when it's the quieter moments that also tend to stick in her mind, that's when the line between professional and personal interest starts to blur.

She briefly closes her eyes to try push the images aside but instead she's hit with memories from their last mission; like when the colonel and Daniel had exchanged words not long after arriving on the planet, so he'd decided to take point and not engage in any conversation with the rest of the team until they'd reached the closest village from the gate. During their hike, Colonel O'Neill had given Sam the clipped order to watch his six and, naturally, being the good second-in-command that she is, followed his instructions, only to find her gaze every-so-often drifting lower. It was only when she tripped on an exposed tree root and ended up in the arms of her commanding officer, did she force herself to pay more attention.

It's been harder to focus lately, however. Ever since Edora, if she's honest with herself.

A particularly loud cheer erupts and pulls her from her thoughts. She sees Skaara celebrating with one of the younger boys and her heart fills with a warmth and desire that reminds her of when she spends time with her niece and nephew. Her smile widens, but it's only when she hears a low chuckle coming from her right, does she realize the colonel is standing right behind her.

She jumps in surprise and turns, lifting a hand to shield her eyes from the sunlight and inhales sharply. He has long since shed his BDU jacket and she isn't sure what it is, but there's something about the sight of his tanned skin and the way the muscles in his arms bulge and flex underneath the material of his black t-shirt and how his dog tags have been uncovered and are now hanging loose against his tee, that makes her feel a little tug at the bottom of her stomach. When she averts her gaze, she notices that he's also discarded his ever-present ball cap and shades and even though there's a bit of distance between them, she catches the way his hair sticks out in all directions, while his eyes, brown and bright, are shining. He looks genuinely happy and the feeling in her stomach suddenly erupts into something much larger. Clearing her throat, she looks away, only to notice that his skin is glistening under a layer of sweat and she's suddenly hit with the desire to know what he tastes like and it takes all of her strength not to close the distance and press her lips against the skin of his neck.

"Nerves bad, Carter?"

"I didn't know you were there, sir," she admits quietly, looking back towards the Abydonians and resolutely ignoring the fact that she hasn't quite answered his question. It doesn't really matter though because she knows he knows that too when he gives her a long look sideways before he turns his attention back to the game. There's a smirk playing around his lips when he speaks.

"You've been doing that a lot lately it seems."

"Sir?" She frowns, confused as to what he's referring to.

"Getting distracted on our missions."

"I – oh." She straightens as she prepares to defend herself. "Colonel –"

"Relax, Sam," he interrupts gently as he turns to look at her. "I'm not going to dress you down."

His voice is a low rumble and it draws her attention. She glances up to see he has moved closer, his shoulder almost brushing hers. It makes her think that if she turns just slightly more to the right and pushes up on her toes, her lips could make contact with his jawline and –

She abruptly looks away and derails that train of thought.

"Skaara seems to have settled in well."

"Yeah," he replies and she takes a shaky breath, relieved that she's been able to steer herself onto much safer ground. "It's… good," Jack adds softly after a moment. "Really good."

They fall silent as they watch the ball being kicked back and forth and it's a couple of minutes later when he finally nudges her shoulder with his own.

"You wanna give it a go?"

"No, sir," she smiles. "I'm good."

"Really?" his question is casual, but she has a feeling he hasn't finished yet.

She doesn't have to wait long to be proven right. "It's just you seemed to be watching intently as to how it unfolded. You know, from your hiding spot here behind the tents."

"I just didn't want to get in the way," she answers feebly, thankful when his only response is to smirk.

 _"O'Neill!"_

They both turn to see Skaara waving but Jack shakes his head. Moments later, the young man jogs over.

"You are not playing anymore?"

"This old man needs a break, kiddo," he shrugs. "Carter and I are gonna take a walk instead."

Sam tries not to let her surprise show so she smiles at Skaara before he turns and goes back to the game, while the colonel tilts his head in the opposite direction.

"After you," he says.

They leave the settlement and the sounds of fun and laughter behind as they walk in silence. She isn't sure where they are going but, despite everything that's happened lately, she still fully trusts the man walking by her side so she follows him. When the colonel pauses and glances around, Sam copies his movements and finds they are alone. Seemingly happy with this particular spot, Jack promptly sits down and she follows at a more sedate pace.

Once she's settled, she's at a loss of what to say. She's nervous because the two of them actually haven't spent that much time alone since his return and she realizes that she isn't sure where she stands with him. Or where he stands with her. So, instead, she lets her gaze roam their surroundings in the hope that he will break the mounting tension first.

"I never thought I'd see this place again," he says, his attention focused on a point in the distance.

"You're here now."

"Yeah," he quietly agrees, his gaze falling to his hands, "thanks to you."

Sam doesn't know how to respond. It's the first time he's even remotely addressed what she went through to bring him home.

"I haven't thanked you – properly – yet," he continues, and Sam instinctively pulls her knees up towards her chest and wraps her arms around her legs in a defensive stance. She rests her chin on her knees and stares intently at her feet as her toes dig into the sand. "I'm sorry, Sam."

She's surprised by the use of her first name, but she's even more surprised by the apology.

"I didn't – Daniel said you – you went above and beyond the call of duty to bring me home."

She glances at him and catches the end of his wince, as if that isn't quite what he wanted to say.

"Why did you do it?" he asks suddenly.

"You're our team leader," she shrugs, hoping her growing unease doesn't show because she's also wondered why she risked everything to bring him back to her and she's starting to realize it's easier to ignore the answer as opposed to answer the question. "We never leave our people behind, sir."

"It wasn't worth it," he states then shifts slightly on the sand, his discomfort evident. "What I mean is, I'm not sure _I_ was worth it."

Sam feels the bottom fall out of her stomach. It's as if he's confirmed that he wanted to stay with Laira on Edora and the discovery throws her more than she's expecting.

"Were you – were you happy there?" she quietly asks.

He purses his lips as he chooses his words carefully. "I think I thought I was," he finally admits and when Sam risks a glance in his direction he turns his head to look at her and shrugs. "It was a simpler life, Carter. No bad guys to chase after, no Goa'uld trying to kill me, no risk of breaking regulations…"

A lump gathers in Sam's throat and she finds herself apologizing. "I'm sorry, sir."

"Sorry?" he frowns. "What are you sorry for?"

"I didn't –" She closes her eyes and tries again. "I guess if I'd known you were happy, I – I didn't want to have to make you choose."

"I'm not following."

"I thought you would be happy to see us, sir."

"You don't know how happy I was to hear Teal'c –" He stops abruptly when Sam shakes her head.

"You'd moved on."

 _"What?"_

When he frowns at her, she pulls her knees tighter to her chest and offers a half-shrug. "You said you weren't happy to be going home."

"I never –"

"You asked Laira to come back with you, sir."

Jack's frown deepens and she forces herself to look away. She doesn't trust herself to continue talking either, so she doesn't until the colonel knocks his knee against hers. "Talk to me, Carter."

With those four words, she feels the tears sting the edges of her eyes and it feels like the different emotions that are declaring war inside of her are vying to reach the surface and she's scared that they're all going to break free and he will see everything she's tried so desperately to hide these past few months.

"Did you give up on us?"

 _"No."_

His answer is sharp and unwavering, but it's also defensive and it takes a few seconds before he starts to retreat. "I wouldn't say I gave up –"

"But you never expected to see us again?"

"No, I didn't."

She appreciates his raw honesty and finds herself turning her upper body towards him. "We would have tried everything to reach you, sir."

"If Hammond followed protocol, you'd never had been given those resources."

"If the General had followed protocol, we'd have been dead the second we stepped through the gate after our first mission to Chulak," she fires back. "You should have trusted us enough to know we'd come."

Her words are deafening as they echo across the silence of the desert and she sighs heavily. "I'm sorry, sir, I didn't mean –"

"No," he interrupts. "You're right. Look, I may not be an expect in the Stargate or the distances between Earth and the planets we gate to every week, but I knew enough at the time to know the odds. For three months I worked every day, Carter, trying to find the damn Stargate. Then – then I realized that it could be years before a rescue team would make it here – if ever."

"So, it was easier for you to move on?"

Her question, she thinks, borderlines on insubordination and she can hear the incredulity in her voice but the colonel simply shrugs in response.

"I didn't say it was easier."

His confession shocks her and she suddenly feels guilty. "I'm sorry, sir. I should –"

"So help me, Sam, if you're about to apologize for saying you should have reached me sooner."

She presses her lips together, but when he just shakes his head in exasperation, she can't help but smile softly. He turns to look at her, his eyes piercing hers.

"I never should have doubted you and that brain of yours, Carter."

There's so much she wants to say to him and ask him but she can't find the words, but the blame she had thrown on him, about so easily giving up on them makes her feel guilty, when she takes a step back and remembers that he was cut off from everything. He had absolutely no idea how long it would take someone to reach him and, technically he was right, if it had been any other leader but Hammond, a search and rescue operation never would have been given the green light. She finds herself forgiving him for his behavior, even though his reaction to her still stings.

But then, he hadn't known what she'd gone through for him and she'd had absolutely no idea what he'd had to face either.

"It's OK, sir," she finally says, her voice little more than a whisper. "I don't think any of us were fully prepared for a reunion. I guess I wasn't exactly acting like myself either."

She hears the colonel's sharp intake of breath but it takes her a few seconds to realize what she's said – but also the last time she'd heard that same sentence thrown in her face.

"I, uh –"

The radio in Jack's pocket suddenly crackles and startles them both.

 _"Jack, Sam. You there?"_

He rolls his eyes at Daniel's address.

"Yeah. Go ahead, Daniel."

 _"They're starting preparations for the feast."_

Sam holds her breath for a moment as Jack watches her then slowly the corner of his lips turns upwards in an apologetic smile.

"Yeah," he replies. "We're on our way."

At his words, Sam goes to stand only for him to shake his head. He reaches across and places a hand on her arm as he listens to Daniel's final message before the radio clicks off. They stare at each other for a few more seconds and Jack starts to say something, only to stop himself and gesture towards the settlement.

"C'mon," he says. "If Daniel's helping with dinner, it's something you've got to see."

"Why?"

"You ever seen him try to catch a chicken with his bare hands before?"

She can't help it. A ripple of laughter escapes her and without thinking, she reaches out to take the colonel's outstretched hand. He pulls her easily to her feet, bringing her within inches of him and her previous amusement quickly vanishes when he gives her hand a light squeeze.

"Thanks for not giving up on me, Carter."

"Thank you for coming home, sir."

He squeezes her hand once more before he lets go and they start walking but they only manage a few steps before Sam stops and replays the final segment of their conversation over in her head.

"Sir?"

He turns back to look at her and raises a brow in question. "Yeah?"

"About the – the other thing I said," she says, then winces. "I –"

"How about we continue that conversation after dinner?"

She studies him for a moment but only sees sincerity and a glimmer of hope in his expression and she lets out a breath.

"Yes, sir."

He nods at her, then grins. "OK."

This time, as they make their way back towards the settlement, they follow the route they took earlier. Their tracks are still visible in the sand, only this time Jack is on the opposite side of her as they walk in each other's footprints.

She watches mesmerized as his boots leave behind prints that completely cover her footprints, while her own smaller prints are snugly ensconced within the outline of his boots.

She thinks it could be reflective of something far, far deeper but for now she's happy to walk alongside him as a friend and teammate, their footprints combining together in the sand and something altogether different melding in her heart.

 _"You walked with me  
Footprints in the sand  
And helped me understand  
Where I'm going…"  
\- Footprints in the Sand, Leona Lewis_


	226. Crown Them The Circus Kings

**Author's Note: Written for 'World Elephant Day' (12 August). AU; and I know I say this about all of my AUs but this probably is the most random one yet. There is a reference to an elephant… but that's pretty much the only link this fic has to the holiday.**

* * *

Jack smiled as he took a seat opposite George Hammond. It hadn't been an easy six weeks but since taking over the SGC from Harry Maybourne and Robert Kinsey, the two men had worked hard with their own small team to turn around the working practices and public perception of the 'Stargate Circus' from its previous owners.

Having happily shown them the door, one of the first things Jack and George had agreed upon was to stop the use of animals performing as part of the show. Having rescued the animals, Jack immediately took it upon himself to make sure they had food and water and were no longer locked up in their small cages. It didn't take long for them, particularly the elephants, to seemingly trust him and when they decided it was safe, George had subsequently called in Janet Frasier to check them over. They received the all-clear and plans were now in place to have the animals moved to a sanctuary. So, with no more animal acts, the men had decided to place the shows' focus on their people and the unique skills each of them possessed.

There was Daniel Jackson and Jonas Quinn on the teeterboard; Cam Mitchell played the circus clown; while Vala was a natural on the silks and trapeze, with Teal'c known for being the group's resident knife thrower and fire eater. Then, you had Jack as ringmaster, while Hammond – alongside his assistant Walter – worked behind-the-scenes to make sure everything ran smoothly front-of-house.

"How's everyone today, Jack?"

"Fine, sir," he said. "A little nervous, but ready and raring to go."

"That's good to hear son. It looks like it's going to be a sell-out crowd for opening night."

"It always is, George."

A soft chuckle escaped the older man as he leaned back into his chair. "It's looking good for the whole run," he continued. "Very few tickets remain."

"It's nice to be in a place for more than a week this time," Jack said by way of agreement. The team were also trying to move away from the idea of a continually traveling circus and instead set up more permanent bases for longer. Their newest setup, just outside of Colorado Springs, would be their home for the next six weeks.

"Here is today's schedule," George said, pulling Jack from his thoughts as he handed over a clipboard full of spreadsheets and checklists.

"Anything different I should know about?"

"No. Just make sure after final rehearsals, that your team are well rested for tonight."

"Will do, sir," Jack answered, throwing his commander a sloppy salute as he got to his feet and left the office.

* * *

"OK," Jack said loudly, clapping his hands together to get everyone's attention as he entered the main circus ring. "As we all know, tonight is opening night for the new SGC. A lot is riding on this," he continued, his voice lowering slightly as he took the time to look at every member of his team, "but we're good at what we do. Go and get geared up."

Jack decided to forgo his costume; in part, because he hated how uncomfortable it was to wear, so he stuck to his jeans and flannel shirt, and instead of following the rest of the team as they got changed and into position for their final dress rehearsal, he focused on the clipboard Hammond had given him earlier. He flicked through the notes. Cam would be the first to make an appearance, to warm up the crowd, before Jack would follow with his introduction of the show before Vala would take to the air for her trapeze act.

Everything was going perfectly fine until Vala decided towards the end of her routine, that she would switch it up. Thankfully, she was only three feet in the air as opposed to thirty, but the change still resulted in her grip slipping from the bar, missing the safety net and her hitting the ground _hard_.

A quick examination from Janet revealed a sprained ankle, effectively ruling her out of the week's performances.

"What are we going to do, Jack?"

"It'll be fine, Daniel," he sighed, although he wasn't quite sure who he would get to fill the space at such a short notice. For logistical and safety reasons, it wasn't as simple as just slotting in another person.

"With all due respect, sir," Janet chipped in as she packed away the last of her medical supplies, "I know someone who might be able to help."

He studied her for a minute, then folded his arms across his chest. "They have any experience with this kind of thing?"

"Yes," she nodded.

"How soon do you reckon they could be here?"

"If they are in the area? Within the hour."

"Call 'em," he ordered. "I'll go update George."

True to Janet's word, almost an hour later, she popped her head around the door to Hammond's office to say Vala's replacement had arrived. It didn't mean they would actually perform in the show, but the team were potentially one step closer to solving the problem than they had been before lunch; and with a promise to let Hammond know as soon as possible if they would be able to pull this off in time, Jack followed Janet to the outdoor training ground.

"They're down by the elephants," she offered, before she turned on her heel.

He frowned. "Aren't you going to introduce us?"

She hesitated for a moment, then gave him a small, unintelligible smile. His frown deepened in response.

"No," she finally answered. "I think you'll be just fine."

He watched her leave before he sighed heavily and continued towards his intended destination. As he reached the area, he slowed when he caught sight of a woman dressed in a leather jacket and pants gently running her hand along the trunk of Nellie, one of the female elephants they'd rescued. He couldn't really tell much from this distance, but he could see that the stranger was young and pretty. For some reason, he assumed the person Janet knew would be a man, so it was a pleasant surprise to be proved wrong. He was just deciding how best to approach her when she looked up and met his gaze. The first thing Jack noticed was her eyes and how he could quite easily get lost in them.

She took a step towards him, smiled and extended a hand.

"You must be Jack O'Neill," she said. "I'm Sam Carter. Janet said I might be able to help you."

"Uh…"

"With the circus," she added, a touch of hesitation in her voice. "She said one of your acts –"

 _"Oh,"_ he interrupted, finally paying attention to their conversation and he nodded in agreement. "Yeah, Vala… well, Vala was being Vala and it… didn't end well. You'll soon see," he added with a shrug.

"I'm sorry to hear that," she offered and he smiled in acknowledgment.

"So," he said, when he realized he'd been staring. "What's your skill set?"

"Trapeze and aerial hoop," she confirmed. "The Globe of Death too, when needed."

He froze at that last piece of information then shrugged. There was absolutely no denying the fact that Sam was pretty, _very_ pretty, so it made sense that she would be the beautiful assistant that stood in the center of the sphere while the stunt riders circled their motorcycles around her.

"Had any close calls?"

"Not really," she said, but there was a touch of confidence to her answer that made Jack pay attention. "It's just science."

"Science?" he repeated. "To stand still inside a sphere ball."

 _"Oh,"_ she drawled, then suddenly smirked. "I guess Janet never told you."

"Told me what," he said suspiciously.

"I don't stand anywhere."

"Well, if you don't stand," he fired back, "what the hell do you do?"

She raised an eyebrow at him and gave him a look that Jack could only describe as _hot_ , but he refused to let that train of thought show. After a beat, Sam gestured towards her attire and Jack gladly used the opportunity to study her. It took a few seconds before the different pieces of the puzzle finally clicked into place.

"You're one of the stunt riders."

"Got it in one," she laughed.

All of a sudden, Jack O'Neill had a newfound appreciation for the woman standing in front of him but all he could manage was a pathetic, "Huh. That's – that's… cool."

A silence fell between them as they exchanged glances but it was Sam who recovered first.

"So," she smiled, glancing around. "Am I the kind of person you're looking for?"

"Oh, yeah. You're just the one," he murmured, throwing her a lopsided grin.

Before he could stop himself, he gestured for her to follow and as he led the way towards the main circus tent, he couldn't help but smile. He had a feeling this could turn out to be the greatest show of his life.

* * *

 **Completely random fact, but** **I used to be a part of circus school classes and writing this fic made me really,** _ **really**_ **miss those days!  
**  
 **For anyone who isn't sure, the** **teeterboard is the apparatus that resembles a playground seesaw. The Globe of Death (or Globe of Steel as it's sometimes known because it sounds more family-friendly) is where stunt riders ride motorcycles inside a large mesh sphere ball, looping both horizontally and vertically, while a person stands in the center.**


	227. Stake Your Claim

**Author's Note: Written for 'Filet Mignon Day' (13 August). Missing scene for season 4 '** _ **Upgrades**_ **'. I think this is the first** _ **Upgrades**_ **fic I've ever written.**

 **Also, IIRC, the word "hustle" has a couple of different definitions. In this case, we're going for the "obtain by illicit means" definition…**

* * *

Jack loves the Atanik armband, he really does. It enhances various attributes like his strength, speed and agility, not to mention his metabolism, and, he thinks to himself as he unwraps another candy bar, who doesn't want super-human strength?!

He's been able to out-spar Teal'c; he's been able to run faster and for miles longer than usual without the pain and protesting of his knees; he's been able to eat whatever he wants and not have to worry about putting on the extra pounds. He _is_ sorry about the incident with Siler but, in short, the armbands are great.

Until it isn't and he realizes just how much it is enhancing his abilities. In particular, it's his senses like touch and taste and smell that he notices are more… _responsive._

It's already difficult to get used to – he swears he can smell the food in the mess from his office – but his sensory perception overall is far more intense whenever he's near Carter.

He tries not to think about _why_ that is, instead trying to avoid her where at all possible throughout the course of their day stuck on base. Until the incident with Siler and now they're quarantined here, in the VIP quarters, and it's all becoming too much for him to deal with. He needs to get out of the room, or even just a distraction to take his mind off things, before he does something stupid. Like having a quick chat with Carter and suggesting they find out just how enhanced their stamina levels really are –

He shakes his head.

 _Food._

He could go for some food. That would take his mind off his second-in-command. He nods to himself as if it's enough to convince him it's a good idea.

"Well, all I know is that I'm going to starve to death. I don't know about you guys, but I am having some serious protein cravings."

Jack freezes at the sound of the major's voice and how she seems to have read his mind – a quality he thinks could well be possible thanks to this new-found technology – but then he realizes how hungry he is and he's unable to stop the suggestion that comes forth.

"Steak."

"I could go for that," Daniel chimes in.

"Big, red, juicy meat –"

"O'Malley's in town."

He reckons they'll be back before anyone knows they are gone, so he doesn't need convincing. "Let's go."

* * *

Moments later, he meets his teammates at the elevator and he can't help but notice how Sam is dressed and the perfume she's now wearing and the way her hair has fallen around her face. He's on the verge of reaching out to tuck a strand behind her ear when he suddenly realizes that this idea is actually a very, _very_ bad idea and a feeling settles in his gut that tells him the night isn't going to end well.

He has the feeling that he's a dead man walking.

But he's still hungry, so after a quick glance around to make sure they are alone, he shrugs and decides he can deal with the consequences later.

"Let's eat."

* * *

Escaping the confines of the mountain and venturing into the cool night is just what Jack needs. At least, that's what he thought. He imagined the fresh air would sober him up and reduce the pull of the armbands and it might have worked – if only Sam hadn't brushed up against him after they'd scaled the security fence outside the SGC.

So, as soon as they reach O'Malleys, he makes a beeline for the bar. He thinks alcohol might help the situation; it'd lessen his inhibitions and dull his senses, but when he downs two shots and still doesn't feel a buzz he orders one more for luck before he chooses to stick to beer. As if the universe knows, he doesn't have long to wait to see just how much of a bad idea drinking and going out for a meal is because when they're shown to their table, Sam chooses the seat opposite him and no matter how hard he tries, he can't keep his eyes off her so he tries to strike up a conversation as a distraction.

"How high do you think that fence was?"

"Twenty? Twenty-five feet?"

"I'd say more like thirty," Sam offers, drawing his attention back to her.

Thankfully, though, he also notices the waitress approaching to take their order. "What can I get you?"

"Three of the biggest steaks you've got," Jack jumps in. "With everything. Rare – and a baked potato."

"You got it!"

She turns to walk away and Jack quickly calls her back. "Excuse me? That was for _me._ "

"Yeah, I'm going to have three as well," Daniel agrees.

"Four?"

" _Four!_ Four is good."

"Me too," Sam adds enthusiastically, "and French-fries with mine. _Oh!_ And a diet soda."

Jack's gaze snaps to hers at the request and she shrugs defensively. "I like the taste better."

If only he wasn't so mesmerized by the way she's now staring at him, he would laugh, but her eyes are wide and bright blue and innocent; her lips are slightly parted, and she looks beautiful under the lighting of the bar. He swallows hard against the rush of emotion he suddenly feels and has to down his final shot. Offering up a silent prayer, he hopes this is the one that gives him the buzz he needs to forget about the buzz that Sam's making float through his body.

"So, has it occurred to anyone that we're defying a direct order?"

He risks a glance at Sam when she breaks the silence that's fallen.

"Well, it's not like we haven't defied orders before."

"Well, yeah, but that was to save Earth," she argues.

"Earth, steaks, there's a difference?" Jack asks because, at this stage, he actually isn't sure what the difference is if it means he can stop being so hungry.

"We'll be back before anyone knows we're gone," Daniel placates and Jack takes a drink of his beer, trying to ignore the sense of foreboding that accompanies the archaeologist's statement.

* * *

After devouring dinner, they decide to have a few games of pool before they head back to the base, but when Jack catches sight of Sam leaning over the table as she lines up a trick shot, he again decides it's too much and announces that he's going outside for some air.

He keeps walking until he reaches the rear of the parking lot and, seeing a truck parked, he makes it around to the passenger side. Here, he can hide within the shadows but he can still see his surroundings clearly, in part because of the lights situated around the restaurant and also because of the armband. He's alone for a few minutes before the door to O'Malley's swings open and the murmur of the evening crowd and background music filters out over the otherwise silent night air. Among the noise he spots Sam immediately. She's hovering around the door but then she turns and looks right at him. He shouldn't be surprised that she finds him so easily, he reminds himself. Her sensory perception is enhanced too. He watches and waits as she makes her way down the steps and across the lot before she stops a few feet away.

"Where's Daniel?"

"He's playing pool."

He quirks an eyebrow at the unexpected response and Sam flashes him a grin as she lifts the arm encased by her own band and subtly waves it around.

"Ah."

 _Daniel Jackson: Archaeologist. Intergalactic traveler. Hustler._

A low chuckle escapes him at the thought. "I'm surprised you haven't joined in."

"I'm thinking about it," she grins.

"Well," he says, leaning against the truck, "if you do, make sure you go double or nothing. As long as it's someone else and not me having their ass handed to them for a change, you might as well make it memorable."

It takes him a few seconds to realize what he's just said when Sam's amusement vanishes. He's just about to apologize when Sam's gaze locks onto his and she slowly takes a step closer. Jack feels the hairs on the back of his neck stand on end and the buzz that he's been feeling in his veins all day, intensifying with every hour that's passed, suddenly kicks into overdrive. There's an itch ever-present under his skin and it's only something the woman standing before him can scratch.

"Carter?"

His voice is low, gravelly, and he's pretty sure he's thrown her a warning, but she either doesn't hear it or specifically chooses to ignore it because she takes another step closer, and another, until she's just inches away from him.

He swears the air around them crackles and even in the shadow of the vehicle they're effectively hiding behind, he can see the flush on Sam's face and the way her lips are slightly parted, her breath shallow.

"Carter," he repeats gruffly, "I think it's time we headed back to –"

"These armbands," she murmurs, cutting off the rest of his sentence, "they – they're making me… alive. Reckless, even."

 _"Major –"_

"It's almost as if I just need to get it out of my system," she continues, her breath now mingling with his and he wonders when she managed to close the gap between them. He reaches up to put his hands on her shoulders and gently steer her back towards O'Malleys when he feels her fingers brush along the inside of his wrist. He freezes at the touch and glances down to see her touching the cuff of his jacket before they trail teasingly along the material of the arm and he's no longer sure they're just talking about the armbands.

 _"Sam –"_

"No one would have to know," she softly counters. "No one _would_ know."

Jack stares at her, his eyes widening in surprise but she just looks back, her gaze clear and confident and he suddenly _gets_ it. These armbands... they could do _anything_ and no-one would know. He could take her against this truck and no-one would be any the wiser. But _he_ would, and _Sam_ would, and he's starting to realize that she's far too important and worth a hell of a lot more to him than just a quick fuck against the side of some stranger's vehicle in a darkened parking lot.

With more self-control than he knows he possesses, he closes his eyes and rests his forehead against hers while his hands settle on her hips. He can feel her shaking under his touch; she's full of the same energy – the same buzz – as him and it doesn't really help their situation, but it also does at the same time, to know that it's not just him who is struggling.

Instinct wins over though, and without a second thought he effortlessly turns them and pins Sam against the truck. _Hard._ And then he's kissing her and slides a thigh in between her legs, increasing the pressure slightly as he deepens the kiss. A low moan escapes Sam as she sinks down into his touch, but it's only when she arches her back, her body pressing up against him, that he remembers where they are. _Who_ they are.

 _"Sam."_

"Jack," she whispers, her lips chasing his as he resists the urge to kiss her again.

He closes his eyes and sighs. "We can't."

The only response he receives is the sound of their breathing as they try hard to cling onto what little restraint they have left.

He tries to tell himself why this is bad, why he should really, _really_ let go of Carter's hips when the doors of O'Malley's suddenly swing open and the sound of people talking and laughing breaks the silence. He glances over to see the source of the interruption; they're walking in the opposite direction but it's another reminder of just where the two of them are and that there could be someone around who knows them and sees them in a compromising situation.

With a final frustrated sigh, he straightens and reaches for Sam's hand, tugging her further towards the rear of the truck and out of the line of sight of the restaurant.

"One day, Carter," he promises, "one day."

He doesn't give her a chance to ask him what he means, instead letting his hands cradle her chin as he leans in and kisses her. It's gentle and slow and soft.

Sam whimpers against him and it takes everything he has to not go against everything he's just talked himself out of doing.

When he pulls back, he lets go of her and gives them both space to try and regain their equilibrium. After a few minutes, he finally meets her eye.

"C'mon," he murmurs, giving her hand a little tug. "You've got some locals to hustle over pool."


	228. Inscription

**Author's Note: Written for 'World Calligraphy Day' (14 August).**

* * *

Sam held her breath as she stared into the eyes of her commanding officer. They were both sitting cross-legged and facing each other as the council leaders of PX9-6JY stood in a circle around the couple. It was a cosy arrangement to say the least, but instead of feeling awkward, Sam could only focus on the intimacy of the situation.

"Are you sure you're OK with this?"

She nodded at his murmured question but her smile faltered when Jack reached out and gently wrapped his hand around her lower arm. She inhaled sharply at the contact and when he looked at her, she tried to relax.

"I'm OK," she whispered a moment later.

Keeping his gaze locked on her, the colonel retrieved an ornately decorated brush from one of the leaders. The bristles had been dipped into gold paint and he studied it, then Daniel, who'd now crouched down beside the pair.

"Remember," Daniel said quietly, "you're not supposed to think about this."

"Yeah, yeah," Jack answered. "I got it. I'm just supposed to know what to write," he added dismissively and Sam resisted the urge to smile.

She knew her CO didn't share Daniel's enthusiasm of the ceremony. Both she and Jack had been chosen to partake of the event – based on the locals' assumption that they were married – and in order for any potential trade deal to continue between the two worlds, the Teagenians had requested they follow one of their customs. It was meant to show to the couple and those around them that they were soulmates and were in bonded together in every aspect of life. If this was the case, the Teagenians explained, they wouldn't need words to convey their thoughts. Instead, they would instinctively _know_ what to communicate to their partner – and it was this message that had to be painted onto their partner's skin.

"Are you sure this is safe?"

Sam quickly glanced up at Daniel who nodded, then shrugged. "I think so. I mean – I'm pretty sure it's safe," he amended at Jack's thunderous expression. "Just write something," he hissed out of the corner of his mouth.

With a sigh, Jack closed his eyes briefly, and then readjusted his grip on the brush.

"OK," he muttered. "Here goes."

As soon as the tip of the brush touched Sam's skin, she felt its warmth. It didn't burn or hurt, nor did she feel like she was in any danger, but it felt… odd. She couldn't explain it, but when her attention fell to where her CO was drawing patterns against her skin, she frowned.

She had no idea what he was writing, but the symbols looked familiar and she was mesmerized by every stroke of the brush and how he carefully ministered to her skin like it was calligraphy to parchment.

"Sir –"

"I don't know, Carter," he interrupted softly, not looking at up. "It's just…"

"It is his unconscious mind speaking," one of the leaders supplied and out of the corner of her eye, she could see Daniel start to get animated by the discovery.

"I'm almost finished," Jack murmured as the pad of his thumb brushed over the pulse point on her wrist and Sam returned her attention to him. She forced herself to relax as she concentrated on the feel of his skin against hers and how the brush tip barely touched her arm. It was light and it tickled and contrasted deliciously with the firm hold he had of her wrist.

"It's Ancient," she heard Daniel whisper.

"What?"

"Jack, he – he's writing in Ancient."

"Shut up, Daniel," Jack whispered. "Close your eyes, Carter."

"Sir?"

His attention was solely focused on his task as he moved along her arm. "Trust me."

The last two words were spoken so quietly and with such reverence that Daniel froze. Sam did as she was told and as soon as she closed her eyes, her arm and chest started to burn.

"Finished," the colonel whispered.

Her eyes flew open and Jack stared calmly at her as the word that had been painted on her skin felt like it was being scorched into her heart. She looked down to find the gold paint glimmer in the low light of the tent.

"Amacuse," Daniel murmured and immediately his tone put Sam on edge but before she could ask what it meant, one of the Teagenians took the brush from the colonel's hand, dipped it into the bowl of gold paint nearby and presented it to her.

Silently, Jack held out his arm and Sam slowly wrapped her fingers around his wrist, her gaze lingering on how his tanned skin contrasted with her paler skin. Without thinking, she ran the back of her thumb over the inside of his wrist. She started to paint and she instinctively seemed to know what her chosen word would be. Which was also odd as it was a word she'd only heard once before – by Martouf when he spoke about his love for Jolinar.

Pushing those thoughts aside, she glanced at the man in front of her and smiled nervously. "Close your eyes," she whispered and with a final stroke of the brush, she leaned back and studied the symbols that now decorated his arm.

 _Sim'ka._

"It means betrothed," Daniel whispered as he turned to Teal'c and the two shared a knowing, but not overly surprised, look.

"The ceremony is now complete."

Both Jack and Sam jumped at the interruption and she looked up to find the council leaders smiling at them. Figuring they'd passed whatever test they'd been set, Sam grabbed hold of Jack's hand as he helped her to her feet. They didn't say anything; instead they held each other's gaze while Daniel spoke quietly with the council.

"Uh, Jack? Sam?"

Again, they jumped at the sound of Daniel's voice and Sam felt the room start to spin.

"Woah."

That was exactly what she thought, but she never said a word and she frowned. She glanced to her left just in time to see the colonel lift a hand to his head.

"Sir? Are you –"

Suddenly, he fell to his knees and she tried to get to him but everything around her started to blur. The last thing she remembered was the panicked yells of Daniel and Teal'c as she collapsed by Jack's side.

* * *

 **I was really hoping to catch up with these holidays and finish the series at the end of December like I had originally hoped at the beginning of this year. Realistically, however, even if I was to do nothing but write for this over the next number of weeks, I'm not going to complete it in time. I know most of you won't mind this delay – and you have all been super patient and understanding with me throughout this whole thing – but I am majorly disappointed in myself that I haven't been able to keep up with this challenge. I feel like I'm letting you all down, but I promise that I will still keep updating this series until every day of the year has been covered. Thank you!**


	229. Chip Off The Old Block

**Author's Note: Written for 'Check The Chip Day' (15 August), when pet owners are encouraged to get a check up on their pets and make sure they are chipped. There really are some bizarre holidays out there… AU fic.**

* * *

"Yeah, yeah," Jack said as he turned onto the next street. "I'll be there in a few minutes, Daniel."

His acknowledgement didn't make much difference however as his friend continued to update him on the progress of their newest patients, so he resisted the urge to roll his eyes and instead concentrated on his driving. It was raining heavily, the thunder continued to rumble in the distance and the wind had also started to pick up and whilst Jack was thankful for his truck, the conditions weren't ideal and it would be easier to navigate the roads without Daniel's incessant talking.

Finally, Jack could take it no longer. "I'm a minute out, Danny. I'll see you then."

Without waiting for a response, he ended the call and threw his cell phone onto the passenger seat. He's a lot of time for the man, he really does, and he's one of his closest friends but the weather had put Jack in bad form this morning and even though he tends to work far over his actual set working hours, today he doesn't want to have to deal with anything work-related until he actually gets there.

He loves his job and not a day goes by when he doesn't send up a silent prayer of thanks for those he works with, Daniel in particular. He owes Daniel his life as he was the only one who stood by Jack following Charlie's accident and refused to let him self-destruct. Instead, he helped him lay off the booze and throw himself into something he loved – something Charlie would be proud of him achieving, which is what eventually led him to opening his own veterinary practice on the outskirts of Colorado Springs. Charlie, just like Jack, loved animals and it seemed like a fitting way to now always be able to pay tribute to his late son.

Turning onto the second last street from his practice, Jack suddenly thought he caught a flash of something moving at the side of the road. He slowed his truck but despite looking in his rear-view mirror, he couldn't see much through the rain. However, his gut told him that there was definitely something there. With a sigh, he pulled over and switched off the engine. Before his feet had even hit the ground, the rain beat down relentlessly against his body and quickly saturated his clothes, but he jogged back towards the side of the road. It took a few seconds but then his suspicions were confirmed. Curled in a ball was a puppy, soaked and shivering and scared.

"Hey buddy," he said quietly, giving the dog a friendly smile. "What are you doing out here?"

Warily, the dog lifted its head and sniffed at Jack's outstretched hand before it curled back into a ball and whimpered softly. Jack shifted closer but couldn't see any obvious signs of injury. It was hard to see given the conditions but he knew that if he didn't get the dog dried and warmed up soon, it wouldn't be a happy ending. After a moment of hesitation, Jack pulled his fleece over his head and rolled it into a ball in his hands before he slowly reached out and scooped up the puppy. It didn't resist and as soon as the animal was in his arms, it snuggled closer to his chest. Casting a quick glance around to make sure there were no others, Jack turned on his heel and headed back to his truck. Once inside, he placed the dog on the passenger seat and gave it another quick onceover. Satisfied that he could make it to the practice without any emergencies, he watched the dog lift its head and sniff around its new surroundings and at the unfamiliar smells.

With a small smile, he reached out to scratch the dog behind its ears before he switched the truck on.

"It's okay, bud," he muttered as he started driving. "You're safe now."

* * *

'Well, as far as I can tell he's perfectly healthy, sir. He's been well looked after by his owner."

"How old do you reckon we're dealing with here?"

"Around twelve weeks. I think he's probably been outside and the storm has spooked him."

"So, not a stray."

"Not a stray," Janet confirmed as she took the seat opposite Jack's desk. "He does have a tag," she added, dropping it into his hand when he gestured for it, "and he's microchipped, but I haven't contacted the owner yet. I know you prefer to do that."

"Yeah," he nodded, looking at the information inscribed into the dog tag that had been retrieved from the puppy's collar. _Sam Carter._ He frowned at the name; he knew most people in the surrounding area but not this person. "Thanks, Doc."

With a final nod, Janet got to her feet and turned to leave and the puppy, who Jack had temporarily named Bart, started at the sound of the door closing. Running a hand over the dog's head, Jack spoke softly to settle him again, only for Bart to decide he was no longer sleepy. Instead, from his position on Jack's lap, he stretched and leaned his two front paws on the desk. He looked bigger, not to mention healthier and happier, now that he was out of the elements and Jack had to admit that the dog was cute. _Really_ cute. He had all the time in the world for animals – and dogs in particular – but there was something about Bart that had captured his heart. He'd miss the little guy once his owners came by to collect him.

And with that thought, Jack pulled the animal back onto his knee. He ran his thumb along the inscription on the tag and picked up the phone. "Okay," he said, "let's hope Sam Carter picks up."

The phone rang three times before a woman's voice came over the line.

 _Hi, this is Sam Carter –_

"Hi, this is –"

 _– please leave a message and I will get back to you as soon as I can._

When a shrill beep followed the message, Jack sighed. He _hated_ answering machines, always preferring to speak to someone, and it took him a few seconds to remember that he actually needed to _leave_ a message. But on this occasion, he'd also been surprised to discover that Sam Carter was a woman and something about her piqued his interest. He shook his head to get rid of the thought and cleared his throat softly.

"Hi Sam – uh, Mrs – Miss – Carter? It's Jack. O'Neill. Uh –"

He winced at his sudden inability to leave a voicemail and abruptly ended the call. Immediately, though, he realized that was the wrong decision because he'd left out the very important reason for _why_ he was calling her, and yet he couldn't make himself pick the phone back up to ring again.

He wiped the palms of his hands against his scrubs and froze. _Was he nervous?!_

He snorted at the idea and shook his head. There was no way he was nervous about a woman he knew absolutely nothing about. Telling himself to stop being so ridiculous, he picked up the phone and when he got her answerphone for the second time, he waited for the beep. He could do this.

"This is a message for Sam Carter," he said, "It's Jack O'Neill – from the veterinary practice downtown. I, ah, I have your dog. He's fine," he added quickly, "but if you could call back when you get this message so we can return him to you, it'd be appreciated."

He hesitated for a moment but there was nothing else he could tell her over the phone, so he absent-mindedly shoved the tags into his pocket and shrugged to himself. "So, yeah… call me."

He ended the call and closed his eyes. "Call me," he repeated with barely veiled embarrassment. "You're an idiot, O'Neill."

* * *

Less than an hour later and there was a knock at Jack's office door. He looked up to see Daniel standing in the doorway. He was smiling.

"What?"

"There's someone here to see you."

"Yeah," he said, returning to his paperwork. There wasn't a day that went by that someone _wasn't_ here to see him, but he didn't have any more set appointments for the afternoon. "Who is it?"

"Bart's owner."

At this piece of information, Jack's head shot up.

"Sam Carter is here?"

Bart, who had been lying in the corner of the room, jumped up at the mention of his owner's name and he made his way over to Jack, his tail wagging from side to side as he looked from Jack to Daniel and back again before he barked impatiently.

"Yeah," Daniel nodded, his smile widening as he reached down to acknowledge the puppy. "She seems… nice."

 _"Nice?"_

"I think you'll like her," he shrugged nonchalantly, and with that he turned and headed back towards the reception area.

Jack stared after Daniel and his cryptic comments for a few seconds before he crouched down to scratch behind Bart's ears. In response, the dog moved closer and licked Jack's face before he sat down and looked up at him with impossibly wide eyes.

"Oh yeah," he grinned. "I'm going to miss you, buddy," he added as he picked him up and headed after his friend.

He'd only just stepped through the double doors that separated the reception area from the offices when a young and very pretty woman made her way into his line of sight.

 _"Thor!"_

Jack heard the stranger's relief at seeing her beloved pet again but before he could make a joke about the dog's moniker, 'Thor' started to squirm and Jack barely had time to set him on the ground before he ran over towards the woman. Effortlessly, she picked up the puppy and placed a kiss to the top of his head.

"I was so worried about you," she mumbled, and Jack felt something ignite in his chest at the scene before him.

It was only when Thor barked that he jumped and realized both the dog and its owner were staring at him.

"I'm sorry, I –"

"I said you must be Jack O'Neill."

He shook her outstretched hand and tried to return her smile. "I'm Sam – Carter," she added needlessly, letting her hand fall by her side. "I should apologize for not returning your call," she continued after a beat. "I only moved here a couple of weeks ago and I'm still trying to find my way around – but I was so nervous about Thor and –"

"It's fine," Jack interrupted gently, noticing how flustered she was becoming. "I'm just glad we were able to reunite you both."

"Where did you find him?" she asked, her attention switching back to her dog. "I've been looking everywhere; he was in the back yard when the storm started and he got spooked by the thunder. There's obviously a gap in the fence I didn't know about."

"It happens," he shrugged, "but at least we can call it a happy ending for Thor."

She nodded in agreement. "I hope he wasn't too much trouble."

"Nah," Jack said with a wave of his hand. "He made himself comfortable in my office, but I think he's ready to go home now."

As if Thor could understand the conversation, he barked, causing both Jack and Sam to chuckle. Without thinking, Jack reached out to scratch behind the puppy's ears one final time.

"No more escapades for you, bud," he smiled, although the traitorous voice in his head admitted he wouldn't mind seeing Thor again – especially if Sam also made an appearance. He cleared his throat and gestured towards the main door.

"Let me walk you out," he offered, ignoring Daniel's intrigued expression as he'd watched the entire exchange unfold from behind a bookcase at the other side of the reception desk.

When they stopped at a fancy little sports car, Sam turned to face him and it was only now that Jack noticed how blue her eyes were and within seconds, he deduced he could get lost in them very quickly.

"What do I owe you?"

Blinking, Jack shook his head. "Nothing."

"But you had to run tests and house him and –"

"Aside from our little visitor here," he shrugged. "It was a quiet morning. It's fine."

He could see she didn't buy his reasoning, but she finally relented.

"Well, thank you," Sam said, flashing him a brilliant smile and Jack felt it was worth more than any payment from her could have been. "I really appreciate you looking after him for me."

"The pleasure was all mine," Jack murmured, reaching out once more to rub Thor's head. "Don't forget to get that fence fixed."

"I won't," she grinned as she unlocked the car and Jack forced himself to step away as Sam placed Thor inside her car. With a final smile in his direction, she slid into the driver's seat. Jack turned and headed back towards the practice but he hesitated slightly and turned to watch them leave. He stayed there until the car was out of sight and he sighed. He was going to miss them _both_ , he realized.

Thinking he missed his opportunity to see her again, Jack ran a hand over his face in frustration before he thrust his hands into the pockets of his scrubs and he frowned. Lifting one of his hands from his pocket, he discovered Thor's tag lying in the palm of his hand and the light reflected off the surface to highlight Sam's name and contact number.

He'd completely forgotten he still had the tag and his heart started to race as he realized he might have been given a second chance.

He turned the tag over in his hand before he curled his fingers around the metal and he smiled. He'd call Sam tomorrow and explain.

Maybe by then he'd figure out how to ask her on a date.

* * *

 **I know there wasn't much reference to "microchips" in this chapter. I guess I became distracted by images of Jack as a hot vet. I regret nothing! lol**

 **Also,** **thank you for the encouraging comments on my previous chapter; I will respond to every one of them shortly!**


	230. A Close Shave

**Author's Note: Written for 'Men's Grooming Day' (16 August).**

* * *

A frustrated curse echoes loudly around the locker room and Sam hesitates outside the door. Technically, it should be Daniel or Teal'c doing the honors and checking up on the colonel to make sure he is now decently attired and ready to leave the base but, somehow, she's managed to draw the short straw.

So, here she is and she's tried to convince herself that it isn't weird. _At all._ Which is kind of true; it isn't the first time she's had to hang around and follow up with her commanding officer – or any of her teammates – after one of their less successful missions. _No, it's definitely not weird,_ she tells herself.

Another string of expletives filters into the corridor, pulling her from her reverie, and she tries not to smile at the creativity of some of the statements. She takes a deep breath, finally steps up the door and knocks twice.

"Sir? Is everything okay?"

"Everything's just peachy, Carter," he snaps and she winces in response. "I'll be out in a minute."

"Yes, sir," she nods, even though he can't see her. With nothing else to do, she steps away from the door and leans against the nearest wall to wait. When five minutes pass and there is still no sign of the colonel, she frowns in concern. She hasn't heard much noise coming from the locker room at all during that time and she's starting to wonder if he really is okay. She's just about to shout a warning that she's on her way in when the door swings open.

He leans against it moments later and Sam sees that he is trying to catch his breath.

"I'm fine," he grinds out, but she notices the lines around his eyes and how he clenches his jaw as she studies him and it tells her enough to know that he isn't fine. Still, she knows better than to actually vocalize those thoughts – especially when they're still at the SGC – so she forces a smile and gestures vaguely over her shoulder.

"You ready to go, sir?"

* * *

He's been stealing glances at her ever since he folded himself into her sports car but she's impressed that he's managed to wait until they are halfway to his house before he turns and openly stares at her. She risks a look in his direction before returning her attention to the road.

"What?"

"Where's my truck?"

She doesn't quite manage to hide her smile at his petulant tone but she decides to make him suffer for a few seconds longer before she answers by checking her rear-view mirror.

"Teal'c promised he would take good care of her, sir."

"You let Teal'c drive my truck?"

"No," she replies honestly, "Daniel did."

"Wh–"

"He and Teal'c decided to go ahead and grab some food. They're going to meet us at your place."

She pauses for just a moment, suddenly unsure as to whether their idea was a good one, considering they haven't actually cleared it with the colonel. "I can call –"

"It's fine, Carter," he says, his attention switching to the scenery passing by the passenger window, "but if Daniel even _thinks_ about getting behind the wheel…"

* * *

Sam takes a deep breath as she follows Jack into his house. He's been quiet, and a little grumpy, ever since their brief conversation in the car and while she doesn't exactly blame him for his bad mood, she doesn't want their team night to be fraught with tension. She watches him move slowly towards the kitchen as he makes a beeline for the refrigerator and she has to quickly pluck the beer from his hand before he can twist the cap off the bottle.

"Janet said no alcohol with the painkillers."

"Then I'm fine," he argues, making a grab for the bottle, "because I haven't taken them."

It's mean, but she lifts the drink just out of his reach, and stares. "Don't you think you should?"

He glares at her and she swallows hard but refuses to back down. "Sir, the locals broke your shoulder. You –"

"I can handle it," he interrupts harshly. "And I already took some of the damn pills," he mutters as he shoves his free hand into the pocket of his jeans.

"You – you have?"

He nods, then grimaces. "I took a couple before we left the base."

He surprises her with his admission because she knows how much pain he must be experiencing for him to first take the painkillers and then admit to it.

"How bad?"

He lifts his good shoulder in a half-shrug before he runs a hand over his jawline. "I've had worse."

It doesn't really appease her concerns but she doesn't press the issue. Instead, she sighs, twists the cap off the bottle of beer and hands it back to him.

"Don't tell Janet," she adds, and her heart beats a little faster when he grins.

Looking away, she decides she could also use a drink and while she tries to regain her composure, she only vaguely registers the colonel leaving. She finds him in the living room a few minutes later. He looks more at ease as he leans back into the armchair; his eyes are closed but he runs his hand across his chin again and the words escape her before she can stop them.

"Is it annoying you?"

One of his eyes pops open and she feels her skin grow hot under his stare but she moves further into the room and gestures towards his face. "I thought I heard you say you were going to shave before you left the base?"

"I was," he answers, studying her warily before he sighs, "but I couldn't manage it with just one hand."

The pieces start to slide into place as she recalls his pale and sweaty complexion from earlier. "Do you want me to do it?"

They both freeze at her question and for a moment she isn't sure which one of them is more surprised. She thinks it _might_ be him so she's just about to apologize and tell him to forget she said anything, when he leans forward and sets his beer down. "Sure".

" _Oh._ Uh –"

He seems to take her hesitation as a refusal and he pulls a face. "Never mind," he mutters, avoiding her gaze. "I was jok–"

 _"No,"_ she interrupts with more force than necessary. "I mean – it's fine," she says with a forced smile. "I just wasn't expecting you to say yes. Where's –"

"It's down the hall," he finishes. "I'll get it," he says, then adds. "Are you sure?"

His face is just inches from hers and his voice is low and husky and it turns her insides to liquid. No longer trusting her own voice, she nods.

She's downed half her beer by the time Jack returns and she waits until he settles himself in his armchair again before she perches on the edge of the coffee table. She refuses to meet his gaze as she gets to work, silently reaching for the shaving gel and applying it to his chin and jaw line before she wipes her hands on a cloth and picks up the razor. She slowly reaches up and angles his head so she can discover where's best to begin before she hooks her fingers under his chin and tilts his head upwards. She stands slightly, and it's only when she's looking down at him does she realize just how close they are. His eyes are dark and bore into hers and she can feel his breath tickle her neck when he exhales.

"You sure you know what you're doing, Sweeney Todd?"

Despite the situation, she smiles and it momentarily breaks the tension that's built up between them so she decides to just go for it and presses the blade against his skin, carefully running it along the direction of the hair growth. She repeats the action a few more times and when there's no sight of blood or snarky complaints from the man sitting in front of her, she relaxes and continues to work.

A part of her wants to finish the task as quickly as possible but it isn't easy. She tries her best to ignore the way his eyes follow her every move or how the muscles in his jaw tense, then relax, underneath her touch or those puffs of air that tickle her face every time he exhales. All that's left is the area under his nose and she shuffles closer, one of her legs sliding in-between his, as she touches his face once again. She's almost finished by the time she realizes the colonel's hand has since found its way to her leg, his thumb idly brushing against the juncture of her thigh and outer hip. The contact is right and wrong all at once and it's almost too much but when Sam catches his eye and sees his gaze fall to her lips, she can't help but think if she leans forward just a fraction more she could –

Without warning, the front door swings open and Daniel and Teal'c's voices travel down the hall, but when the colonel's muffled curse reaches her ears, she risks a look in his direction and discovers he's hurt his shoulder when they jumped apart. She reaches out, only for him to grit his teeth and shake his head.

"I'm… fine," he manages.

"Oh, hey guys," Daniel says as he appears in the doorway and his gaze slowly switches between the two. "Are we interrupting?"

"No," Jack answers immediately, and Sam dips her head as she feels herself blush, deciding to busy herself with putting away the colonel's shaving kit. "Why don't you leave the food in the kitchen? We'll be right there."

Sam holds her breath as she waits for Daniel to turn around and leave. It feels like an eternity before she knows they're alone again. Closing her eyes, she picks up the small bag and she's about to get to her feet, only for Jack to reach out and place his hand over hers.

"Sam," he utters quietly, when she refuses to meet his gaze. It takes a few more seconds before she'll look at him and then he offers her a small, but understanding, smile.

"Thanks, Carter," he finally murmurs as his thumb brushes over the inside of her wrist, but she has a feeling that isn't what he was originally going to say.

Acknowledging whatever did, or didn't, just happen between them she nods and he squeezes her hand before he lets it go. As Sam stands, she can feel his gaze burning into her as she leaves.

She isn't sure whether she's thankful or resentful for the interruption.


	231. Hidden Treasure

**Author's Note: Written for 'Geocaching Day' (17 August), a day to "celebrate the wonderful world of geocaching; the hobby that involves hunting out secrets hidden by other geocachers."**

 **I took a little creative license with this one. Also, this missing scene from Emancipation diverges from the episode slightly – in that Sam was punished by Turghan after she tried to escape the village. There's nothing explicit in the chapter, but I wanted to flag up a warning.**

* * *

Jack glanced at his wristwatch and grimaced. Captain Carter had left camp to "freshen up" ten minutes earlier and even though the two of them had only been working together for three weeks, he knew enough about his teammate to know that she didn't need ten minutes to freshen up. The Air Force instilled that kind of discipline in its officers.

He studied the general direction in which Sam had disappeared as he drummed his fingers against his thigh. He didn't want to interrupt if she was genuinely still in the process of _freshening up_ , but he also wanted to make sure that she hadn't been stolen from under his nose. _Again._ He sighed heavily.

"Is something wrong, O'Neill?"

"This whole situation is wrong, Teal'c," he muttered before he could stop himself. He met his friend's eye, then shrugged. "The captain should have been back by now. Keep an eye on Daniel," he added as he got to his feet. "I'm going to check on Carter."

With a nod, the Jaffa moved away while Jack turned on his heel and headed towards the trees that encircled their makeshift basecamp.

He felt his anger increase with every step he took, but it wasn't directed towards the captain, it was at himself. He was angry that he hadn't taken the proper precautions to keep his team safe. He'd let his guard down and, as a result, Sam had been kidnapped, taken prisoner and almost been –

A wave of nausea hit him and he closed his eyes.

 _Nothing else had happened,_ he told himself, _they'd found her in time._ It didn't make the situation any better, nor did it forgive his actions or absolve his guilt, but they'd found her.

Still, he should have known better. He thought he was better than that.

He'd been left behind on a mission before and it was the one thing he swore he never would do to his teammates – but that was exactly what he had done. He'd left Sam behind, on her own, just so he could attend a party. It didn't matter if the captain had insisted she was okay; Jack should have listened to his instinct and turned his team back home at the first sign the captain's presence was a problem for the Shavadai. He'd failed to do that, but he shouldn't have let Carter out of his sight; not because she was the only female member of his team and needed protecting since she'd proven that she could look after herself, but he honestly wondered whether he would have left Daniel or Teal'c alone as quick. At the very least, he was pretty sure he would have checked in with them over the course of the evening. Yet he hadn't checked in with the captain; not once.

She had been missing for hours and he hadn't known. It was only when he'd sent Daniel to get her the following morning and the archaeologist had come running back across the camp to tell him Sam was missing, that the horrible reality of the situation started to sink in. His initial shock had quickly turned to panic and he genuinely hadn't known what to do. For all of his black ops training, he had nothing at his disposal to start tracking his teammate or where to even begin to look for her.

It was only when Teal'c stepped forward and said he could find Captain Carter, did Jack refocus his thoughts. He believed his friend and found himself following as they studied the tent Sam had been staying in and the surrounding area. Minutes later, Teal'c had noticed the disturbed earth at the edge of the camp site and Jack slapped him on the shoulder. They could track her. He just hoped that whatever had happened – wherever Sam was – that they weren't too late.

It had felt like the longest mission of his life as they made their way through the forest and fields, stopping at every fresh clue that Sam had passed through recently. Then, finally, when Turghan's camp had come into view, Jack let out a breath when he spotted her. The relief he felt that she was alive and unhurt was immediate, and it took him a few seconds to tear his gaze away.

The sound of a twig snapping underfoot pulled him from his thoughts and he shook his head. As he approached the line of trees, he figured he would stumble across Sam at any moment, so he slowed his pace and cleared his throat to announce his presence without startling her. He knew she didn't need any more surprises this mission. His actions were met with silence however and his panic started to return.

He took another step closer when he heard rustling to his left and he swung around. There, partially hidden by a tree and with her back to him, was Captain Carter. Without thinking, he exhaled loudly but the noise travelled further than he expected and the captain suddenly tensed.

"Carter?" he called before she could turn around – or point a gun in his direction.

 _"Sir!"_ She turned on her heel and met his eye as she simultaneously tried to straighten her tee-shirt.

"Everything okay?"

"Yes, sir. I just… need another minute."

"Okay," he said slowly, averting his gaze when he noticed her still struggle to pull down her tee-shirt. "Dinner is ready, whenever you are."

She nodded in response, and that should have been enough for Jack to turn around and leave, yet he found himself unable to move.

He glanced at the trees around him, and out of the corner of his eye he noticed her jump. When she cursed softly, he risked a glance in her direction and froze. The question had left his lips before he could stop it.

"What the hell happened, Captain?"

"It's nothing, sir."

"The hell it isn't," he argued. He took a step closer, only for Sam to take one away and he frowned at her expression. Slowly, he held his hands out by his side. "I'm not going to hurt you, Carter."

His words seemed to register and Sam's gaze snapped to his. "I'm sorry, colonel, I didn't –"

"Captain," he interrupted softly. He waited until he was sure he had her full attention. "What happened?"

"Turghan doesn't like a woman who speaks out of turn," she muttered through gritted teeth.

Jack's anger soared. "Turn around." He caught the hesitation on her face and he softened his tone. "I'm asking as your commanding officer, Sam. I need to see your injuries."

Sam let her hands fall by her sides then slowly turned and Jack sucked in a breath.

"Alright. I'm going to move closer," he said. As he studied the skin of her back, broken and bruised, he cursed. "Those look like –"

"It was a whip, sir."

The silence that followed her admission was deafening.

"I – ah – I tried to escape," she added quietly and Jack pretended to ignore the waver in her voice, "but I got caught. This was my punishment."

Jack's jaw tensed as Moughal's words from hours earlier came back to haunt him.

 _Turghan will partake in his newest purchase._

"Carter, I need you to be honest with me here. Are there any other injuries I need to know about?"

"No, sir."

When she turned around to face him, he studied her until he decided that she was telling the truth.

"Okay," he eventually said, not wanting to press the issue any further for now, "but we need to get you home."

"I'll be –"

"It's not a suggestion, Captain." Obviously, he and his second had more work to do before they reached a full understanding of how their working relationship was going to play out as he didn't fail to notice Sam's flinch at his order. He sighed. "I think Daniel has some of that ointment stuff in his pack."

"I can –"

"Just… let me do this, please," he said as he reached for his radio.

"Daniel, come in."

 _"Jack? Is everything okay?"_

"You got any of that ointment?"

 _"Uh, yeah… What's –"_

"Good," he interrupted. "Give it to Teal'c; he knows my location."

 _"Is Captain Carter okay?"  
_  
He looked at Sam and she gave him a small smile in return as she carefully reached for her own radio lying by her feet. "I'm fine, Daniel."

After a promise that Teal'c was on his way, Jack held Sam's gaze. "I owe you an apology, Carter."

"Sir?"

"For letting the team be split."

"None of us knew –"

"That's beside the point," he interrupted, "and it's not going to happen again. I'm sorry, Sam."

She ducked her chin, then slowly met his gaze. "Thank you, sir."

He nodded, then cleared her throat. "I, ah, I should probably go and keep a look out for Teal'c. Will you –"

"I'll be fine here, sir."

"Yes, yes you will," he agreed softly.


	232. You've Got Mail

**Author's Note: Written for 'Mail Order Catalog Day' (18 August). Alternate reality.**

* * *

At first, he doesn't mind. He's vaguely aware that someone new has moved into the house next door so when he receives some of their mail, he thinks it's a simple mistake and returns the letters to the correct mailbox without a word or complaint.

Then it happens again. And again. And when it happens six days in a row, Jack feels enough is enough. He decides to pay his neighbor – and current bane of his existence – a visit, calmly introduce himself and then let them know in no uncertain terms that they need get their paperwork sorted out because unless they're going to pay him for his own personal paper route, he won't be bringing any more of the mail around. He finishes his coffee and with a frustrated sigh lifts the letters addressed to _'S. Carter'_ as he heads out of the kitchen.

By the time he reaches their front door, he's rehearsed everything that he's going to say but no-one answers so he decides not to leave their mail. Instead, he heads back home in a worse mood than before – something he didn't think was even possible – and decides to write Carter a note. And if it just so happens to be slightly passive aggressive in its tone? Well, that's just tough.

He heads back next-door, throws the note in with the letters, slams the mailbox closed and doesn't give it a second thought.

* * *

Two days go by before Jack realizes that he hasn't received any more of Sam Carter's errant mail and he finds himself breathing a sigh of relief. He thinks the least they could do would be to turn up at his front door and personally thank him for all the letters he did deliver, but he chooses to let it go as his neighbor doesn't seem to spend that much time at home. In the three weeks since they've moved in, he thinks he's spotted their fancy little sports car in their driveway twice.

He is sorting through his own mail as he makes his way through his house when a slip of paper falls out of the pile and lands by his feet. He picks it up and discovers it's a handwritten note.

 _Dear Mr O'Neill,_

 _I want to sincerely apologize for the mix-up regarding my mail being delivered to your house. I've been in touch with the relevant companies again, and any further misdirected mail should stop by the end of the week._

 _Again, I'm really sorry._

 _Sam Carter_

He re-reads the letter again and harrumphs before he places it down with the rest of the letters and glances out of the front window. There's no sign of their car, so he isn't sure when they left the letter – or how he's managed to miss them – but decides not to dwell on the issue as he heads into the back yard to work.

* * *

It's well into the afternoon and Jack steps inside the house to grab a drink. He bypasses the glasses and water for a refrigerated beer and is just about to go back outside when the doorbell rings. He opens the door to find a young man in a cap standing on the front step. He looks no older than seventeen.

"Uh… Sam Carter?"

"Wrong house, kid," he sighs, then points to the house to his left.

"Oh, uh, well… do you think you could take these in? They can't be left without a signature and –"

"Why don't you actually try going next door?"

He glances over his shoulder and shrugs. "There doesn't appear to be anyone home, sir."

Narrowing his eyes at the delivery driver, Jack steps out onto the front porch and strains to see down the street. The car is still gone and he quietly swears. He steps back inside his house and meets the kid's gaze.

"How many?" he sighs.

"There's only a couple more."

With more force than is probably necessary, Jack takes the clipboard and pen and scribbles his signature along the bottom. "Just leave them in the hall," he mutters, "but this _is_ the last time."

The delivery driver is gone by the time he returns a couple of minutes later and loses his temper.

"Oh, for crying out loud! Where did that kid learn to count?"

He can no longer see his hallway for cardboard boxes piled up against both sides of the wall. He doesn't care if Carter isn't home – the parcels are _not_ staying. He's just about to pick up the closest one to take it next door but something makes him pause and look at just what is inside the boxes. He stops short of actually opening the boxes and diverts his attention to the shipping labels instead. Among the items he finds a telescope, motorcycle parts for a rare Indian motorcycle, and what looks like a month's supply of blue Jell-O.

He isn't sure whether this information shapes his opinion of his neighbor – he's verging between them being either cool or weird, he can't quite decide – but it still doesn't change the fact that he keeps receiving Carter's mail.

With a shake of the head, Jack kicks a box to the side and goes to retrieve his beer. He takes a couple of swigs when the doorbell rings again and something inside him snaps. He slams the bottle down on the countertop and storms to the front door before he forcefully swings it open.

 _"What?!"_

A young woman, with shoulder-length blonde hair and the bluest pair of eyes Jack has ever saw, stares at him in shock for a moment before she recovers and clears her throat.

"I'm really sorry to bother you," she says sheepishly, "but are you Mr O'Neill?"

He really, really isn't the mood but _damn_ if he hasn't noticed that she's beautiful and he feels something start to flicker to life inside of him. He finds his bad mood quickly vanishing and he adjusts his stance to appear less intimidating.

"Uh, yeah," he finally nods. "Who's asking?"

"Oh," she suddenly smiles and reaches out a hand, "I'm Samantha." When he frowns, her smile falters slightly before her expression clears. _"Sam Carter."_

"Oh." _Oh._ It's his turn to look surprised, but he tries to remain cool and briefly shakes her hand before he leans against the door frame. "So," he says, "You're my mysterious phantom parcel receiver?"

"I'm so sorry about that," she jumps in quickly, her skin turning a light shade of pink, "I've been meaning to call over for a while now, but I was off– I was away," she amends quickly and Jack's interest is piqued.

He's just about to ask if she was away somewhere nice while he played mailman but she continues before he gets the chance.

"I, ah, work over in Cheyenne Mountain."

"You're Air Force?"

"I was," she admits and when he tilts his head to look at her, she offers a smile which he thinks looks more like a grimace. "I'm just a civilian contractor now."

"Who happens to work for the Air Force?"

"That… would be classified."

He huffs in response because he knows all too well what that could mean, but it does suddenly explain her odd working hours and why he's managed to keep missing her and it sparks his annoyance that he has missed her all these afternoons – but for new reasons that have absolutely nothing to do with the mail.

"Well," Sam smiles as she gestures towards the boxes and pulls him from his slightly inappropriate musings, "again, I'm really sorry. I'll get these out of your way."

"Here," he says, pushing off the frame, "let me help."

"You've done enough," she insists.

"It's fine," he replies softly. "I don't mind."

She stares at him for a moment as if she's trying to decide whether or not he's telling her the truth and, for the first time in a while, he really doesn't mind helping. He tries to think of something to convince her when she lifts a couple of the smaller packages and rests them on her hip.

"Okay, I'll let you help – on one condition."

"And that would be?"

"You tell me the best place to get a drink around here and the first round is on me."

His eyebrows rise in surprise but he can't help the grin that tugs at the corner of his lips as he carefully takes one of the boxes from her. "Samantha," he drawls, "that sounds like a deal to me."


	233. Snapshot

**Author's Note: Written for 'Photography Day' (19 August). Post-series; set around eight years after** _ **Threads**_ **(and diverting from canon).**

* * *

Jack shielded his eyes against the sun as he hooked two fingers under the collar of his shirt and pulled the material away from his skin in the hope of a little reprieve from the heat.

From his spot in the shade, under the large ash tree, he could hear the music drift outside from the large hall. Every so often, it was punctuated with laughter and the sound of glasses as they were clinked together.

He smiled as he listened to the celebrations. It was a day he hoped would happen and one he desperately wanted to see, but now that it was here, he was more emotional than he ever anticipated.

Movement to his left caught his attention and his gaze fell on the very person he'd been thinking about. As he leaned back against the tree trunk, he watched fondly as Cassie ran a hand over an imaginary crease on her wedding dress before she stepped into her husband's arms for another photograph. Just before the picture was taken, however, Cass looked up and met Jack's eye. He was treated to one of her dazzling smiles and he felt his own smile widen in response.

As he observed the newlyweds he was struck by how Cassie had grown over the years. From the young orphan girl the team had rescued in the first year of the Stargate Program, to the teenager who'd lost another mother in tragic circumstances; she had faced it all with strength and dignity. She'd worked hard to overcome everything, complete her studies and land her dream job. She even had time to fall in love.

Jack was proud to call Cassandra his daughter. He'd been a father-figure to her almost from the moment they met, and that relationship had only developed over time, especially following Janet's death when he – and Sam – had become Cassie's legal guardians. Jack swallowed hard at the lump in his throat as he remembered the Doc. She would have been euphoric for her little girl today, and he only wished that she could be here.

Before he could replay that fateful mission over in his mind, a loud squeal pulled him from his thoughts. He looked around, quickly located the source of the noise and found himself relaxing again as he watched the scene before him unfold. Cassie and her husband Graham – who just so happened to be a captain at the SGC – had finally been given a reprieve from the photos, but they didn't have time to move far as they were ambushed by someone else.

Chuckling lightly, Jack watched as his own daughter ran towards the couple and launched herself at them. Moments later, Cass had scooped Grace into her arms and twirled them both in a circle. While they giggled in delight, Jack's attention drifted slightly to the right as his wife approached at a more sedate pace. Carefully holding their son, Isaac, in one arm, Sam reached out and hugged Graham with the other. As they all interacted, they were blissfully unaware of the photographer as he captured the moment and once more Jack smiled. Cass would have some great photos to show her own kids someday.

 _Kids._

Jack huffed out a breath as he suddenly started to feel his age. All 60 years of it.

He was thrilled that Cassie finally had her chance at a happy ending, but she would always be a kid to him, no matter what age. And here he was with two of his own kids as well, both of whom were growing up far too quickly for his liking. He was never one for clichés, but it really did feel like time was passing him by. Before he knew it, Grace and Isaac would also be adults and living their own lives.

"She looks beautiful."

The softly spoken statement from Sam brought him out of his reverie and he was surprised to find her standing by his side. He frowned slightly, but then saw Cassie, Graham, Grace and Isaac posing for more photographs. He gazed into the distance.

"Yes, she does," he finally answered.

"And happy," Sam added as she stepped closer, wrapping her arm around his waist.

He instinctively lifted his arm and rested it across her shoulders, pulling her closer. "She is."

"I'm so proud of her."

"Me too," Jack whispered, his voice thick with emotion.

He turned his head to look at Sam. Her eyes brimmed with tears and he pressed his lips against her temple.

"I still can't believe this day is finally here," Sam admitted after a beat. "Our little girl's all grown up. Before we know it, it'll be Grace's turn."

"Oh, hell no," Jack guffawed. "She isn't allowed to date until she's thirty – and even then she's getting a chaperone."

He knew he sounded far too defensive, but when Sam turned towards him and buried her face against his chest as she started to laugh, he couldn't keep up the protective father stance for long before he grinned.

"Laugh all you want now, Carter," he said, "but you'll be the same when the time comes."

He felt her shrug against him and murmur something that sounded suspiciously like "probably", before they fell silent and watched Cassie and Graham as they kept their children entertained.

After a couple of minutes, Sam sighed and Jack lightly jostled her shoulder. "What's up?"

"Nothing."

"It's never 'nothing' with you, Sam. Spill."

She started to answer, only to hesitate.

" _Samantha..._ " he drawled.

"I was just thinking."

"About? " he prompted when she didn't say anything else.

"Us."

"Oh."

"I was thinking about the last wedding we attended," she clarified. "It was ours."

Jack nodded slowly in agreement.

"It's funny," she continued. "I mean – oh, I don't know," she trailed off with a half-hearted shrug.

"Real insightful, Carter."

She rolled her eyes at his teasing and he grinned as he placed another kiss into her hair.

"Sometimes," Sam said quietly, "those eight years that I – _we_ – waited, it felt like the longest time, but… well, we've been married for eight years now. We've two kids. A dog," she added, pointedly ignoring his smug smile, "yet time seems to have vanished. I feel like I've blinked and missed it all."

Jack looked at his wife and waited until she met his eye and he saw a mix of concern and doubt and something else before it vanished.

"Maybe I'm just being ridiculous."

"You're right," he finally agreed. "You are being ridiculous."

As Sam turned to face him, Jack pushed himself off the tree and into parade stance. Then, in one smooth movement, turned Sam around so her back was flush against his chest. He wrapped his arms around her waist and leaned in. His lips hovered by her ear.

"How can you have missed something," he murmured, "when we gained everything?"

For a man of few words, he could tell he surprised Sam and he watched her as she watched their family in the distance. Slowly, her lips twisted into a smile and he dropped a kiss onto the sensitive spot behind her ear.

They had all been through so much and lost a lot, but, in a way, they had also gained significantly more.

He and Sam were now able to be together, for one. They were happy – and relatively healthy. They had received a chance at having a family. They had been given their happy ever after.

And as they watched Cassie and Graham standing together, Cassie held Grace in her arms as they shared a secret, while Graham held Isaac. On either side of the couple, now stood Daniel and Teal'c, all smiling warmly for a photograph.

It was their little unconventional family and as the photographer gestured for the group to move in closer, they all as one turned to Sam and Jack and waved them over. Jack quickly snapped off a sloppy salute in response.

"I love you, Jack," Sam whispered, turning in his arms and placing a soft kiss on his lips.

"Right back at you, Sam. _Always._ "

And then he was treated to one of those smiles; the ones she reserved just for him. The one that – no matter how many times he was on the receiving end – always surprised him and knocked him off balance. Whether it was the way it made Sam's face brighten, or how it made her eyes the most vibrant shade of blue possible, it always caused Jack's heart to slam into his chest and beat wildly.

It was always unexpected, his reaction, but as he glanced down to his and Sam's entwined hands, he grinned. After all this time, he really wouldn't have it any other way.


End file.
